CIHM 
Microfiche 

Series 
(IMcnographs) 


ICMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographies) 


Cnadlan  Institut.  for  Hi.toric.1  Micror.productlon.  /  Inttltut  e.n.di.n  d.  mlcror.productlon.  hittoriqu.. 


TtdHMcat  and  Bib«orap<iic  NotM  /  No«m  tMhniquM  at  biMiographKiuM 


Th«  Inititutt  hai  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  bait  oriflinal 
copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturai  of  this  copy  which 
may  ba  bibliotraphicaiiv  imiqua.  which  may  altar  any 
of  tha  imapt  in  tha  raproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  changa  tha  ummI  mathod  of  filming,  ara 
ehackad  balow. 


L'lnttitut  a  microfilm*  la  maillaur  axamplaira  qu'il 
lui  a  M  poniMa  da  la  procurar.  La*  dMailt  da  cat 
axamplaira  qui  lont  paut-«tra  uniquas  dw  point  da  «iia 
biMiographiqiia,  qui  pauvant  modif iar  una  imaga 
raproduita.  ou  qui  pauvant  axiga*  una  modification 
dam  la  mMioda  normala  da  f  ilmaga  lont  indiqufa 
ci-dastout. 


0 


Colourad  cover*/ 
i^\  Couvartura da eoulaur 


QCovars  damagad/ 
Couvartura  andommagte 


D 
D 
D 
D 


Covart  rattorad  and/or  laminalad/ 
Couvartura  rastaurto  at/ou  pailicuMa 

Covar  titia  mining/ 

La  titra  da  couvartura  manqua 

Colourad  mapi/ 

Cartas  gtographiquat  an  eoulaur 

Colourad  ink  (i.a.  othar  than  bhM  or  Mack)/ 
Encra  da  eoulaur  (i.a.  autra  qua  Maua  ou  noira) 


□  Colourad  platat  and/or  illuttrationi/ 
Planchas  at/ou  illustrations  an  eoulaur 


n 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relit  avac  d'autras  documents 


0  Tight  binding  may  ceuse  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 


n 


La  reliure  serrie  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distorsion  le  long  de  la  marge  intirieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Whenever  pouiMe,  these  have 
been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  qua  caroines  pages  blanches  aioutias 
kirs  d'une  restauration  apparaissant  dans  la  taxte, 
meis,  lorsque  cela  itait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  M  f  ilmies. 


□  Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 


B 


Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagtos 


□  Pages  restored  end/or  laminated/ 
Peges  restauries  et/ou  pellicuMes 

I       I  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
I  ^\  Pages  dicoir  ^n,  tacheties  ou  piquAes 


D 


"  4es  detached/ 
Payasdf    -^h^ 


HShowthrough/ 
Transparence 


0 

n 


Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Qualite  inigalc  de  I'impression 

Continuous  pagination/ 
Pagination  continue 


Includes  indox(es)/ 
Comprend  un  (des)  index 

Title  on  header  Ukan  from:/ 
La  titre  de  I'en-ttte  provient: 


n 


Title  page  of  issue/ 

Page  de  titre  de  la  livraison 


Caption  of  issue/ 

Titre  de  depart  de  la  livraison 

Masthead/ 

Ginirique  (piriodiques)  de  la  livraison 


D 


Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  supplimantaires: 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  f  ilmi  au  taux  da  riduction  indiqui  ci-dassous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

2«X 

XX 

y 

12X 

16X 

20X 

24X 

28X 

32X 

Th«  copy  filmed  h«r«  ha*  b—n  raproducsd  thanks 
to  th«  g«n«ro»ltv  of: 

Metropolitan  Toronto  Reference  Library 
Arts  Department 

Th«  imagM  appearing  hara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
posslbia  considsring  ttia  condition  and  laglbllity 
of  tha  original  copy  and  In  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  spadfieationa. 


Original  capias  in  printad  papar  covars  ara  fUmad 
beginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  andiig  on 
tha  last  paga  with  a  printad  or  Nlustratad  impraa- 
ston.  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriate.  Alt 
ottier  original  copies  ara  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  poge  with  a  printad  or  illustrated  imprea- 
sion.  and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printad 
or  illustrsted  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  eech  microfiche 
shsll  contain  the  symbol  -^>  (meening  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  ▼  (meening  "END"), 
whichever  sppliss. 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  je  filmed  at 
differem  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  ara  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  comer,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


L'exemplaire  film*  fut  reproduit  grice  i  la 
g^narositi  ds: 

Metropolitan  Toronto  Reference  Library 
Arts  Department 

Las  images  suivantes  ont  Ati  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin.  eompte  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
da  la  nanet*  de  I'exempleire  film*,  ot  en 
conformit4  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  eKemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimAe  sent  filmte  sn  commencant 
par  le  premier  plat  at  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
darnlAre  page  qui  eomporte  une  cmpreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration.  soit  par  la  second 
piat,  salon  la  cas.  Tous  les  autres  axemplaires 
originaux  tont  filmte  sn  commencant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  eomporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustrstion  st  sn  terminant  par 
la  darniare  page  qui  eomporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivsnts  spparaitra  sur  la 
darniire  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — ^  signifis  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifis  "FIN". 

Les  cartas,  planches,  tableaux,  etc..  peuvent  Atre 
filmte  A  dss  taux  da  reduction  diff Grants. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  itre 
reproduit  on  un  soul  ciichA.  11  est  filmi  A  partir 
de  Tangle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  i  droite. 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  la  nombre 
d'images  nicessaira.  Les  disgrammes  suivsnts 
illustrent  la  mAthode. 


1  2  3 


1  2  3 

4  5  6 


MKROCOnr  RISOIUTION   TBT  CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


,^^SU        '653  East  Main  Str««l 


1653  East  Main  Street 

??Fi'?*'*'''  '**»  ^ort<        14609      USA 
(716)  482-0300 -Phone  "^ 

(716)  288 -5989 -Fax 


Inc 


/  ■;    "'  K  N  T 


Contemporary  Dramatitts  Strits 

HUGO  VON  HOFMANNSTHAL 
Death  and  the  Fool 

JOSE  ECHEGARAY 
The  Great  Galeoto 

AUGUST  STRINDBERG 
Advent 

Uniform  binding,  t2mo.y  antique  boards 
Each  7/f.  net,  83 (.  postpaid 


Other  Volumes  in  Preparation 


RICHARD  G.  BADGER 
PUBLISHER,    BOSTON 


Ctntemptrary  Dramsttt)j  Striis 

ADVENT 


A  PLAY  IN  FIVE  ACTS 


AUGUST     STRINDBERG 


Tramlattd  by  Claud  Field 


dTjjuimctAWffPcrdp 


BOSTON:  RICHARD  G.  BADGER 

The  Copp  Clark  Co.,  Limited,  Toronto 


METROPOLITAN 

TO^r;TO 

pr:' ■    nf\\ 

LijRARY 

fhentre 


§S?.7a 


i''>0 


OCT  2  0  1977 


ADVENT 


A  MYSTERY  PLAY 


i 


Dramatis  Persona 

Lagman  (literally  "law-man,"  Swedish 
term  for  Judge  in  the  Court  of 
Appeal). 

Lagmanska,  his  wife. 

Amalie,  their  daughter. 

Adolf,  their  son-in-law. 

The  Neighbour. 

Erich,  \  Children  of  Adolf  and  Amalie. 

Thyra, ) 

The  Other  One  (sometimes  appears  as  a 

Franciscan  Monk). 
The  Playfellow. 
The  Witch. 
The  Prince. 
Shapes  and  Shadows. 


ADVENT 

The  Scenery 

Act  I 
The  Vineyard  and  the  Mausoleum. 

Act  II 
The  Ante-chamber. 

Act  III 

The  Wine-cellar. 
The  Garden. 

Act  IV 

The  Cross-roads. 
The  "  Waiting-room." 
The  Cross-roads. 
The  Judgment-hall. 

Act  V 
The  Ante-chamber. 
The  "  Waiting-room." 


1 


ACT  I 


A  Vineyard  in  the  background. 
On  the  left,  the  Mausoleum:  a  little 
white-washed  brick  building  with  door  and 
Gothic  window;  a  red  gable-roof  sur- 
mounted by  a  cross.  A  clematis  with 
violet  cruciform  blossoms  climbs  up  the 
wall,  at  the  foot  of  which  grow  various 
flowers. 

In  the  foreground  is  a  peach-tree  laden 
with  fruit,  under  which  the  Lagman  and 
the  Lagmanska  are  sitting.  The  Lag- 
man  wears  a  green  cap  and  is  dressed  in 
the  style  of  1820 — yellow  knee-breeches, 
blue  coat,  etc.  The  Lagmanska  has  a 
head-kerchief,  a  stick,  spectacles  and 
snuff-box.    She  looks  like  a  "  witch" 

On  the  right  is  a  small  penance-chapel 
with  a  picture  of  the  Madonna;  the  paling 
in  front  of  it  is  hung  with  wreaths  and 
bouquets.    Before  the  paling  is  a  prie- 

dieu. 

7 


8 


ADVENT 


The  Lagman,  The  evening  of  life  has 
brought  us  at  last  the  sunshine  which  its 
morning  promised ;  the  early  and  the  latter 
rains  have  blessed  the  fields  and  meadows, 
and  the  songs  of  the  grape-treaders  will 
soon  be  heard  around  us. 

The  Lagmanska.  Don't  talk  like  that ! 
Somebody  might  hear  it ! 

The  Lagman.  Who  could  be  listenmg 
here,  and  what  harm  can  it  do,  if  I  thank 
God  for  every  good  gift? 

The  Lagmanska.  One  ought  not  to  talk 
of  good  fortune.  Ill  fortune  may  be 
standing  and  listening. 

The  Lagman.  What  would  that  matter  ? 
I  have  been  born  with  a  silver  spoon  in  my 

mouth. 

The  Lagmanska.  Do  be  careful !  We 
have  many  enviers  and  evil  eyes  watch  us. 

The  Lagman.  Well!  Let  them!  It 
has  never  been  otherwise.  But  I  have 
kept  my  place  all  the  same. 

The  Lagmanska.  Till  now,  yes!  But 
I  forebode  evil  from  our  Neighbour;  he 
goes  about  in  the  village  and  says  we  have 
cheated  him  out  of  his  property,  and  other 
things  of  the  same  kind  which  I  will  not 
mention.  Of  course  that  does  not  matter 
when  one  has  a  clean  conscience,  and  a 
blameless  life  behind  one.     The  slander 


ADVENT  9 

does  me  no  hann.  I  go  to  confession  and 
mass  and  am  ready  to  close  my  eyes  when 
the  hour  comes,  in  order  to  open  them 
again  once  more  and  to  look  my  Judge  m 
the  face.  For  I  know  what  I  shall  answer 
Him. 

The  Lagman.  What  will  you  answer? 
The  Lagmanska.  This  :  "  Certainly,  O 
Lord,   I  was  not  free  from  faults,  but 
though  I  may  have  been  a  poor  sinner,  I 
was  still  a  little  better  than  my  neighbour. 

The  Lagman.  I  don't  know  why  you 
have  come  upon  these  ideas  just  now,  and 
they  don*t  please  me.  Is  it,  perhaps,  be- 
cause the  Mausoleum  is  going  to  be  conse- 
crated soon? 

The  Lagmanska.  Perhaps,  for  as  a  rule, 
I  do  not  think  about  death.  Haven't  I 
still  got  all  my  teeth,  isn't  my  hair  as  thick 
as  when  I  was  your  bride  ? 

The  Lagman.  Yes,  yes;  you  have  eter- 
nal youth,  like  myself.  But  we  shall  have 
to  go  hence  some  day  after  all,  and  smce 
fortune  has  been  kind  to  us  we  will  avail 
ourselves  of  the  privilege  of  lying  in  our 
own  piece  of  earth.  Therefore  we  built 
this  little  mausoleum,  where  every  tree 
knows  us,  where  every  flower  will  whisper 
of  our  work,  of  our  toils  and  of  our  con- 
flicts. 


lO 


ADVENT 


The  Lagmanska,  Yes,  conflicts  against 
envious      neighbours      and      ungrateful 

children.  .     ..  ^  t  \ 

The  Lagman.  You  said  it :  ungrateful 
children."    Have  you  seen  Adolf  yet? 

The  Lagmanska.  No,  I  have  not  seen 
him,  since  he  went  out  this  morning  to  try 
to  get  the  money  for  the  rent. 

The  Lagman.  The  money  which  he  will 
never  get.  much  less  I.  But  now  the  time 
of  grace  is  over  he  knows,  for  it  is  now  the 
third  quarter  that  he  has  not  paid. 

The  Lagmanska.  Yes !  he  must  go  out 
in  the  world  and  learn  to  work  instead  of 
sitting  here,  and  playing  the  lazy  son-m- 
law.     I  will  keep  Amalie  and  the  children. 

The  Lagman.  Do  you  believe  that 
Amalie  will  let  herself  be  separated  from 

Adolf.  ,       '     a    ^ 

The  Lagmanska.  Oh  yes,  when  it  affects 
her  children  and  her  inheritance.  But 
look!     There  it  is  again ! 

\_A  sun-gleam  appears  on  the  wall  of 
the  Mausoleum;  it  quivers  as  though  cast 
from  running  water."]         .  ^    „^       .    .  ^ 

The  Lagman.  What  is  it?    What  is  it? 

The  Lagmanska.  On  the  Mausoleum! 

Don't  you  see?                            »     .        t 
The  Lagman.  That  is  the  reflection  of 
the  sun  in  the  stream.     That  means 


ADVENT 


II 


The  Lagmanska.  That  means  that  wr 
shall  still  behold  the  sunlight  for  a  long 

time.  .        _  ^ 

The  Lagman.  Or  the  opposite,  fiut 
no  matter !  A  good  conscience  is  a  soft 
pillow,  and  the  righteous  are  not  deprived 
of  their  reward!  Look,  there  is  our 
neighbour. 

(Enter  the  Neighbour). 

The  Neighbour.  Good  evening.  Lag- 
man  and  Lagmanska.  xt  •  i. 

The  Lagman.  Good  evening,  Neigh- 
bour. How  are  you?  It  is  a  long  time 
since  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you. 
How  are  your  vines?     I  ought  to  have 

asked  you.  . 

The  Neighbour.  Oh !  the  vines !  They 
have  got  mildew,  and  then  the  starlings 

are  here.  ^  ,     j       it 

The  Lagman.  Heaven  defend  us!     l 

have  no  mildew  on  mine,  and  starlings  I 

have  neither  seen  nor  heard. 

The  Neighbour.  Lc  ts  are  unequal ;  one 

is  raised,  and  the  other  cast  down. 

The  Lagmanska.  And  there  are  good 

reasons  for  it. 

The  Neighbour.  I  see!  The  just  do 
not  fail  of  thei"  reward,  and  the  unjust 
are  promptly  punished. 

The  Lagmanska.  No!  not  quite  that! 


12 


ADVENT 


But  you  must  acknowledge  in  any  case 
that  it  is  strange.  The  two  pieces  of 
ground  lie  close  to  each  other;  one  pro- 
duces good  fruit,  the  other  bad. 

The  Neighbour.  One  has  starlings,  and 
the  other  none !  That  seems  to  me  stiil 
more  strange.  All  are  not  born  with  a 
silver  spoon  like  the  Lagman. 

The  Lagman.  It  is  true  what  you  say, 
and  fortune  has  inclined  towards  me.  I 
am  thankful  for  it,  and  there  are  moments 
when  I  feel  proud  of  it,  as  though  I  had 
deserved  it.  But  listen!  neighbour;  you 
come  just  at  the  right  time.  The  lease  has 
fallen  in,  and  I  should  like  to  ask  you,  if 
you  care  to  take  it. 

\The  Lagmanska  rises  and  goes  up  to 
the  Mausoleum,  where  she  busies  herself 
with  the  flowers.^ 

The  Neighbour.  So!  the  lease  has 
fallen  in !     H'm  !     When  was  it  ? 

The  Lagman.  This  morning. 

The  Neighbour.  H*m !  Oh,  yes.  Then 
you  are  turning  your  son-in-law  out  ? 

The  Lagman.  Yes,  the  good-for-noth- 
ing cannot  support  himself. 

The  Neighbour.  Tell  me  one  thing, 
Lagman!  Haven't  you  heard  that  the 
Government  intends  to  make  a  military 
road  through  the  properties  here. 


\ 


ADVENT 


13 


The  Lagman.  I  have  heard  a  vague  re- 
port; but  it  is  only  talk. 

The  Neighbour.  On  the  contrary,  I  have 
read  it  in  3ie  newspaper;  in  that  case  the 
land  might  be  appropriated  to  public 
uses  and  the  lessee  would  be  the  loser. 

The  Lagman.  I  cannot  imagine  it,  and 
I  could  not  bear  it.  What!  Leave  the 
little  spot  of  earth  where  I  hoped  to  end 
my  days  in  peace,  where  I  have  prepared 
my  resting  place  in  order  not  to  lie  in  the 
public  cemetery ! 

The  Neighbcnt.  Wait!  One  never 
knows  where  one  may  come  to  lie,  and  my 
father  who  possessed  this  ground,  also 
hoped  to  be  able  to  rest  in  it,  but  his  hopes 
were  baulked.  As  regards  taking  up  the 
lease,  I  must  decline  to  do  so. 

The  Lagman.  As  you  choose.  The  pro- 
posal was  unselfish  on  my  part,  as  you  are 
an  unlucky  man.  It  is  no  secre*  that  you 
fail  in  everything  that  you  undertake,  and 
people  have  their  own  ideas  about  one 
who  goes  solitary  and  friendless,  like  you. 
Isn't  it  so  ?  As  a  matter  of  fact,  you  have 
not  a  single  friend. 

The  Neighbour.  Yes,  tnat  is  true.     I 
have  no  friend,  and  that  always  looks  bad. 
It  cannot  be  denied. 
The   Lagman.  Listen !      To   come   to 


-j^j 


14 


ADVENT 


something  else,  is  it  true,  as  tradition  says, 
that  this  vineyard  was  once  a  battlefield 
and  that  thence  the  wine  has  its  fiery 
quality? 

The  Neighbour.  No,  I  have  never 
heard  it.    My  father  told  me  it  had  been  a 

Slace  of  execution,  and  that  where  the 
lausoleum  now  is,  the  gallows  used  to 
stand. 

The  Logman.  Horrible!  What  made 
you  tell  me  that.^ 

The  Neighbour.  Well,  you  asked.  And 
the  last  to  be  hung  there  was  an  unjust 
iud^e,  who  lies  buried  there  with  his  un- 
justly condemned  victims. 

The  Lagman.  What  wild  stories! 
(Calls)  Caroline! 

The  Neighbour.  And  therefore  he 
haunts  the  place.  Have  you  never  seen 
him.'^ 

The  Lagman.  I  have  seen  nothing  of 
the  sort. 

The  Neighbour.  But  I  have  seen  him 
and  he  usually  comes  at  vintage-time, 
when  they  hear  him  by  the  wine-press 
down  in  the  cellar. 

The  Lagman  (calls)  Caroline  I 

The  Lagmanska.  What  is  it? 

The  Lagman.  Come  here ! 

The  Neighbour.  And  he  will  get  no  rest 


ADVENT 


15 


till  he  has  endured  all  the  pangs  which  he 
has  made  his  victim  suffer. 

The  Lagman.    Go  away !     Go ! 

The  Neighbour.  Very  well.  I  did  not 
know  the  Lagman  was  so  sensitive. 
(Goes.) 

The  Lcgmanska.  What  was  it? 

The    Lagman.  Oh!    he    told    stories 

which  annoyed  me.    But,  but ^he  has 

also  some  evil  purpose,  this  man  I 

The  Lagmanska.  That  is  what  I  said; 
but  you  must  always  gossip,  when  you  see 
anyone.  What  had  he  so  much  to  cackle 
about? 

The  Lagman.  I  cannot  say;  it  makes 
me  ill  only  to  think  about  it.  You  shall 
hear  it  another  time  I     See,  there  is  Adolf. 

Adolf.  Good  evening ! 

The  Lagman  (after  a  pause).  Well? 

Adolf,  My  luck  is  bad.  I  haven't  been 
able  to  get  any  money. 

The  Lagf  'an.  There  will  be  good 
reasons  for  that. 

Adolf.  I  cannot  find  the  reasons  why  it 
goes  well  with  some  and  ill  with  others. 

The  Lagman.  No?  Go  within  your- 
self, examine  your  acts  and  thoughts,  and 
you  will  see  that  you  yourself  are  to  blame 
for  your  misfortune. 

Adolf.  It  is  possible  that  I  am  not  a 


i6 


ADVENT 


righteous  man,  but  I  have  no  unrepentcd 
sin  on  my  conscience ! 

The  Lazmanska,  Remember  carefully. 

Adolf.  That  1  believe  is  not  necessary, 
for  conscience  already  keeps  watch. 

The  Lagman.  Conscience  can  be  lulled 

to  sleep. 

Adolf.  Do  you  know  that?  I  have  cer- 
tainly heard  of  villains  who  have  grown 
gray  in  crime,  but  their  conscience  has 
awoken  shortly  before  death,  and  I  have 
also  heard  of  criminals  whose  consciences 
did  not  awake  till  after  death. 

The  Lagman  (agitated).  So  that  they 
went  about  like  ghosts,  you  mean.  Have 
you  also  heard  the  story?  I*  is  strange; 
all  have  heard  it,  except  me. 

The  Lagmanska.  What  are  you  talking 
about  now?  You  had  better  keep  to  the 
matter  iii  hand. 

Adolf.  Yes,  that  is  wiser.  And  while 
we  are  together,  father-in-law,  I  will  tell 
you  what  I  propose. 

The  Lagman.  Look  here,  young  man. 
I  find  it  more  fitting  that  you  should  hear 
my  decision,  which  is  this.  From  this  day 
forward,  you  have  ceased  to  be  my  tenant, 
and  before  the  sun  sets,  you  go  out  in  the 
world  and  look  for  work. 

Adolf.  Are  you  serious  ? 


ADVENT 


17 


The  Lagman,  Fie  I  I  never  joke.  And 
you  cannot  complain  for  you  have  twice 
had  respites. 

Adolf,  And  three  times  bad  harvests :  is 
It  my  fault? 

The  Lagman.  I  didn't  say  so;  but  it  is 
still  less  mine.  And  it  is  not  I  who  con- 
demn you.  Here  is  the  contract  and  here 
the  broken  agreement.  Have  I  broken 
the  agreement ?  No!  Then  I  am  blame- 
less,  and  I  wash  my  hands. 

Adolf,  That  is  legal,  but  I  expected 
that  between  relatives  consideration  would 
be  shown,  especially  since  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  events,  this  property  will 
descend  to  your  heirs. 

The  Lagmanska.  Hear  him!  "The 
ordinary  course  of  events  !"  He  goes  and 
waits  for  our  decease !     But  look  at  me 

^°^  T     .»?P  ^^^^^  ^^^^  ^or  twenty  years; 
and  I  will  live,  if  only  to  vex  you 

The  Lagman  (to  Adolf).  What  coarse- 
ness, what  want  of  humanity  to  say  to  old 
people  in  their  faces.  "  Won't  you  soon 
die.?  Fie!  Fie!  Now  you  have  broken 
all  ties,  and  I  only  say  "Go  and  don't 
appear  here  again  ever!" 

Adolf.  That  is  plain  speaking,  at  all 
events.    And  I  will  go,  but  not  alone 

/  he  Lagmanska.  Yes,  you  will !     You 


jm 


i8 


ADVENT 


think  Amalie,  our  daughter,  will  follow 
you  on  the  high  roads,  and  you  will  send 
as  one  child  ai^er  another  here.  We  have 
foreseen  that,  and  guarded  against  it. 
Adolf.  Where  is  Amalie?  Where? 
The  Lagmanska.  So  well  disposed  of 
that  you  may  know  it.  She  is  on  a  visit 
to  the  convent  of  the  Clarissine  nuns,  only 
on  a  visit.  Now  you  know  that  it  is  not 
worth  the  trouble  to  look  for  her  here. 

Adolf.  Some  day  you  will  pay  for  rob- 
bing one  who  is  in  trouble,  of  his  only 
support;  and  if  you  make  me  break  the 
marriage  tie,  you  will  be  responsible  for 
breaking  it. 

The  Lagman.  Fie  upon  you  f  Throw- 
ing the  blame  on  the  mnocent.  Go,  go, 
hunger  and  thirst  before  closed  doors  till 
you  have  learnt  gratitude. 

Adolf.  I  wish  you  the  same  in  double 
measure  I  Let  me  only  say  good-bye  to 
my  children,  and  I  will  go. 

The  Lagmanska.  Since  you  will  not 
spare  your  children  the  pain  of  parting,  I 
will  do  it.  In  fact,  I  have  v.one  it  already. 
Adolf.  That  also !  Now  I  believe  all 
the  evil  reports  about  you,  which  are  in 
circulation;  and  now  I  understand  what 
your  neighbour  rieant,  when  he  said  that 
you  could  not  bear  to  see  the  sun ! 


ADVENT 


19 


The  Lagman,  Not  a  word  more;  else 
you  will  come  within  reach  of  law,  and  the 
hand  of  justice.  (Ne  lifts  his  right  hand, 
which  lacks  the  index- finger ). 

Adolf  (comes  near  and  takes  his  hand 
in  order  to  exan„tne  it).  The  hand  of  jus- 
tice!— the  hand  of  the  perjured,  wnich 
lacks  the  finger  which  he  laid  on  the  Bible 
when  he  swore !  Woe  to  you !  for  the  day 
of  requital  has  come,  ana  your  misdeeds 
will  rise  like  corpses  from  tne  graves,  and 
accuse  you. 

The  Lagmanska.  WhBl  does  he  sa^y?  It 
is  as  though  he  blew  fire  upon  us!  Go, 
liar !  and  may  hell  be  thy  reward ! 

Adolf.  May  heaven  reward  you — after 
your  deserts,  and  God  protect  my  children. 
(Goes). 

The  Lagman.  What  was  that?  Who 
was  it  that  spoke?  The  voice  seemed  to 
me  to  come  out  of  a  cfreat  subterranean 
hall. 

The  Lagmanska.  Did  you  hear  it  also  ? 

The  Lagman.  God  help  us  then !  Do 
you  remember  what  he  said  about  the  sun. 
That  I  thought  was  the  strangest  of  all. 

How  can  he  know  that that  it  is  so? 

That  I  am  so  peculiarly  constituted  that 
the  sun  always  burns  me.    They  say  it  is 


i 


20 


ADVENT 


because  my  mother  had  a  sunstroke  when 
I  was  born,  but  that  you  also 

The  Lagmanska  (frightened).  Hush! 

When  one  talks  of  the  devil,  he say, 

hasn't  the  sun  gone  down? 

The  Lagman.  Yes,  certainly. 

The  Lagmanska.  How  is  it,  then,  that 
the  patch  of  sunlight  still  remains  on  the 
mausoleum  ? 

(The  sun- gleam  moves). 

The  Lagman.  Jesus!  Maria!  A 
miracle ! 

The  Lagmanska.  A  miracle,  say  you, 
and  on  the  grave !  That  is  not  an  every- 
day occurrence,  and  only  a  certain  few 
who  have  lived  in  faith  on  the  highest 
things 

(The  sun- gleam  is  extinguished). 

The  Lagman.  It  is  uncanny  here  this 
evening;  really  unpleasant.  What  an- 
noyed me  most  of  all  was  that  the  good- 
for-nothing  expected  to  out-live  us  in 
order  to  inherit  the  property.     Do  you 

know  that  I yes,  I  wondered  wheAer 

I  should  say  it. 

The  Lagmanska.  ^T^y  it ! 

The  Lagman.  Weil,  have  you  heard 
that  this  ground  was  once  a  place  of  execu- 
tion ? 


ADVENT 


21 


The  Lagmanska.  You  have  heard  that 
A         too. 

'  The  Lagman,  Yes;  and  you  knew  it? 

Now,  if  we  gave  the  ground  to  the  convent, 
it  would  become  consecrated  ground,  and 
then  one  might  live  in  peace.  Adolf 
would  be  also  circumvented  in  his  specu- 
lating on  the  inheritance.  That  appears 
to  me  a  peculiarly  happy  solution  of  the 
intricate  dilemma, — to  give,  and  not  to 
take  anything. 

The  Lagmanska,  Your  excellent  sense 
has  again  hit  the  mark,  and  I  am  of  the 
same  opinion.  But  supposing  the  land 
were  actually  appropriated  by  die  Govern- 
ment, what  dien.? 

The  Lagman.  There  is  time  enough  to 
consider  that  afterwards.  Meanwhile  let 
us  get  the  Mausoleum  consecrated  as  soon 
as  possible. 

(The  Franciscan  Monk  enters).  God's 
peace  upon  you,  Lagman  and  Lagmanska. 

The  Lagmanska.  You  come  at  the  right 
moment.  Father,  to  hear  something  which 
affects  the  Convent. 

The  Franciscan.  I  am  glad  of  that  (the 
sun-gleam  appears  on  the  Mausoleum). 

The  Lagmanska.  And  we  wanted  to 
ask  when  the  consecration  of  the  Mauso- 
leum can  take  place. 


22 


ADVENT 


The  Franciscan  (looks  steadily  at  her). 
Ah! 

The  Lagman,  There !  look  Father !  do 
you  see  the  miraculous  sign  there? 

The  Lagmanska.  Yes !  is  it  not  a  holy 
place  ? 

The  Franciscan.  That  is  a  reflection 
from  the  water. 

The  Lagmanska.  Is  it  not  a  good  omen  ? 
Does  it  not  mean  something  and  counsel 
us  pious  reflection?  Could  not  this  spot 
become  a  meeting  place  for  wanderers 
who  seek 

The  Franciscan.  Frau  Lagmanska,  let 
me  speak  a  word  with  you  in  private.  (He 
withdraws  to  the  right.) 

The  Lagmanska.  Father ! 

The  Franciscan  (in  an  undertone). 
Frau  Lagmanska.  You  enjoy  here  a  re- 
spect which  you  do  not  deserve,  for  you 
are  the  greatest  sinner  I  know.  You  want 
to  buy  forgiveness,  and  you  want  to  steal 
heaven.  You  who  have  already  robbed 
the  Lord. 

The  Lagmanska.  What  do  you  say? 

The  Franciscan.  When  you  lay  ill  and 
at  the  point  of  death,  you  promised  God 
to  give  a  monstrance  of  pure  gold  to  the 
Convent  Church  if  you  recovered.  You 
did  so,  and  you  gave  the  holy  vessel,  but 


ADVENT 


as 


it  was  of  silver  over-gilt.  Not  on  account 
of  the  gold,  but  because  of  the  broken 
vow  and  deceit,  you  Lre  already  con- 
demned. 

The  Lagmanska.  I  didn't  know  it;  the 
goldsmith  deceived  me. 

The  Franciscan.  That  is  a  lie,  for  I 
have  the  goldsmith's  account. 

The  Lagmanska.  Can  it  be  forgiven? 

The  Franciscan.  No!  For  to  try  to  de- 
ceive God  is  a  deadly  sin. 

The  Lagman.  Alas ! 

The  Franciscan.  As  regards  your  other 
crimes,  you  can  settle  with  yourself  re- 
garding them,  but  if  you  touch  a  hair  of 
the  children's  heads,  you  will  find  out  who 
protects  them  and  feel  the  iron  rod. 

The  Lagmanska.  See !  this  fiend  of  a 
monk  stands  there  and  talks  to  me  like 
that!  If  I  am  damned,  I  am  damned. 
Ha!  Ha! 

The  Franciscan.  Yes,  blessing  will  cer- 
tainly not  light  on  your  house,  nor  will 
you  find  peace,  till  you  have  endured  all 
the  sufferings  which  you  have  caused  to 
others. 

May  I  say  a  word  to  the  Lagman } 

(The  Lagman  approaches.) 

The  Lagmanska.  Tell  him  his  sins; 
then  we  are  equal. 


H 


ADVENT 


The  Franciscan.  How  did  you  come  to 
build  your  Mausoleum  just  where  the 
gallows  used  to  be? 

The  Lagman.  The  Devil  must  have 
suggested  Uie  idea  to  me. 

The  Franciscan.  Yes !  just  as  he  did  of 
driving  your  children  out  on  the  highways 
and  robbing  them  of  their  inheritance. 
You  have  also  oeen  an  unjust  judge, 
broken  your  oath,  and  taken  bribes. 

The  Lagman.  I } 

The  Franciscan.  And  now  you  want  to 
erect  a  monument  to  yourself,  and  to  gain 
a  house  eternal  in  the  heavens.  Listen ! 
This  ground  will  never  je  consecrated  and 
you  will  think  yourself  happy  if  you  are 
allowed  to  lie  in  the  public  churchyard 
among  ordinary  sinners.  The  curse  of 
blood-guiltiness  rests  upon  this  ground, 
and  it  has  been  unjustly  acquired. 

The  Lagman.  What  shall  I  do} 
The  Franciscan.  Repent,   and  restore 
the  stolen  property. 

The  Lagman.  I  have  not  stolen ;  it  has 
all  been  honestly  earned. 

The  Franciscan.  Look  you  !  that  is  the 
worst  of  all — ^that  you  justify  your  crime; 
yes,  I  know  you  think  you  have  been 
specially  favoured  by  heaven  because  of 


ADVENT 


25 


your  righteous  dealing.  Yet  you  will  see 
what  the  harvest  will  be;  thistles  and 
thorns  will  grow  in  your  vineyard;  you 
will  wander^  lonely  and  defenceless,  and 
the  peace  of  your  old  age  will  be  destroyed 
by  strife  and  dissension. 

The  Lagman.  The  Devil  take  you ! 

The  Franciscan.  Call  him  not; — ^he 
comes  soon  enough ! 

The  Lagman.  Let  him  come!  I  fear 
him  not !     I  am  a  believer ! 

The  Franciscan.  The  devils  also  be- 
lieve, and  tremble !     Farewell.     (Goes.) 

The  Lagman  (to  his  wife).  What  did 
he  say  to  you  } 

The  Lagmanska.  Do  you  think  I  am 
going  to  tell  you?  What  did  he  say  to 
you.** 

The  Lagman.  Do  you  think  I  am  going 
to  tell  you  ? 

The  Lagmanska.  Are  you  going  to  have 
secrets  from  me  ? 

The  Lagman.  How  ?'  I  yourself? 
You  have  always  had  seer-  .rom  me,  r:ut 
I  will  expose  your  tricks  once  for  all. 

The  Lagmanska.  Wait  a  little !  I  will 
find  out  where  you  have  hidden  the  miss- 
ing money. 

The  Lagman.  Aha!  You  have  hid 
money  too.     It  is  not  worth  the  trouble  to 


26 


ADVENT 


w 


'ft| 


r 


1^ 

i 

I 


play  the  hypocrite  any  longer.  Show 
yourself  in  all  your  ugliness,  Witch ! 

The  Lagmanska.  I  believe  you  have 
lost  your  senses,  though  you  hadn't  much 
to  lose !  Keep  up  an  appearance  of  de- 
cency at  least,  if  you  can 

The  Logman.  And  preserve  your 
beriuty  if  you  can !  and  your  eternal  youth. 
Ha!  ha! — and  your  uprightness!  You 
must  have  bewitched  and  bedazzled  my 
sight,  for  now  I  see  how  hideously  ugly 
and  old  you  are ! 

The  Lagmanska  (on  whom  the  sun- 
gleam  now  falls).  Alas !  it  burns  me ! 

The  Lagman.  Now  one  can  see  what 
you  really  look  like.  (The  sun- gleam 
falls  on  the  Lagman.)  Alas!  now  it 
burns  me. 

The  Lagmanska.  And  what  do  you  look 
like.? 

(Exeunt  both  on  the  right.) 

(The  Neighbour  and  Amalie  enter  from 
the  left.) 

The  Neighbour.  Yes,  my  child,  there  is 
justice,  human  and  divine,  but  we  must 
have  patience. 

Amalie.  I  believe  that  it  will  come  out 
right,  although  it  looks  bad ;  but  I  cannot, 
I  have  never  been  able  to  love  my  mother. 


ADVENT 


27 


Something  within  me  says  that  she  is  alien 
to  me,  and  even  hostile. 

The  Neighbour.  Aha!  You  have  dis- 
covered it  I 

Amalie.  Yes,  she  hates  me,  and  that  a 
mother  cannot  do. 

The  Neighbour.  Aha!  Aha! 

Amalie.  And  the  fact  that  I  cannot  ful- 
fil my  duty  as  a  daughter,  and  love  her, 
makes  me  suffer. 

The  Neighbour.  Well,  after  this  suffer- 
in?,  when  the  hour  of  requital  is  come,  you 
will  learn  the  greatest  secret  of  your  life. 

Amalie.  And  I  could  endure  every- 
thing, if  she  were  only  kind  to  my  children. 

The  Neighbour.  Be  of  good  comfort, 
for  her  power  is  at  an  end.  The  cup  of 
her  iniquity  is  full  and  runs  over. 

Amalie.  Do  you  think  so!  Yet,  it  is 
only  to-day  that  she  has  torn  Adolf  from 
us,  and  as  you  see,  she  has  humiliated  me, 
and  made  me  wear  clothes  like  a  servant 
in  order  to  work  in  the  kitchen. 

The  Neighbour.  Patience! 

Amalie.  Yes,  you  say  so!  To  suffer 
deservedly  I  understand,  but  to  suffer 
innocently 

The  Neighbour.  My  good  child, 
prisoners  suffer  deservedly,  and  that  is  no 


28 


ADVENT 


honour,  but  to  suffer  innocently  requires 
grace,  and  is  a  trial  from  which  those  who 
endure  it,  reap  golden  fruit. 

Amalie.  You  speak  so  beautifully  that 
I  believe  all  you  say !  Hush !  there  come 
the  children;  but  they  must  not  see  me 
dressed  like  this  I 

(Ske  hides  behind  a  bush.) 

(Enter  Erich  and  Thyra;  the  sun-gleam 
falls  on  the  children  alternately.) 

Erich.  See !  the  sun-gleam. 

Thyra.  Oh,  the  pretty  sun!  But  just 
now  it  had  disappeared  and  gone  down. 

Erich.  Perhaps  this  evening  it  has  been 
allowed  to  stay  up  longer  for  having  been 
good  during  the  day. 

Thyra.  The  sun  cannot  be  good;  how 
stupid  you  are ! 

Erich.  Yes,  the  sun  can  be  good;  it  is 
the  sun  which  makes  the  wine  and  the 
peaches. 

Thyra.  But  then,  it  could  give  us  a 
peach  if  it  were  good. 

Erich.  So  it  will,  if  we  can  only  wait. 
Hasn't  one  fallen  down? 

Thyra  (looks  on  the  ground).  No,  but 
we  can  go  near  the  tree. 

Erich.  No,  we  mustn't,  because  of 
grandmother. 

Thyra.  Grandmother   said    we    musn't 


ADVENT 


29 


shake  the  tree,  but  I  think  we  may  play 
round  the  tree  till  one  falls  of  itself. 

Erich.  How  stupid  you  are!  That 
comes  to  the  same  thing !  (Looks  up  in- 
to the  tree.)  Ah !  if  only  a  peach  would 
fall! 

Thyra.  It  won't  fall  unless  we  shake  the 
tree. 

Erich.  Thyra!  don't  speak  so!  That 
is  sinful ! 

Thyra.  Shall  we  pray  God  that  one  may 
fall? 

Erich.  One  may  not  ask  God  for  any- 
thing good — I  mean,  good  to  eat.  Ah! 
little  peach,  fall !  fall !  (A  peach  falls 
from  the  tree;  Erich  picks  it  up.)  See ! 
how  kind  the  tree  was ! 

Thyra.  Yes !  but  we  ought  to  divide  it 
fairly,  for  I  was  the  first  who  said  that  one 
ought  to  shake  the  tree. 

(The  Lagmanska  enters  with  a  great 
stick.)  Aha!  there  you  are,  shaking  the 
tree!  Come!  you  wicked  children,  I'll 
give  it  you. 

Erich.  No,  grandmother,  we  have  not 
shaken  the  tree. 

The  Lagmanska.  Aha!  You  lie  too. 
Didn't  I  hear  Thyra  say  "one  ought  to 
shake  the  tree.**"  Come  now,  I  will  shut 
you  up  in  the  cellar,  where  you  will  see 


30 


ADVENT 


neither  sun  nor  moon  shine. 

Amalie  (comes  forward).  The  children 
are  innocent,  mother. 

The  Lagmanska,  That's  nice! — ^to 
stand  behind  a  bush  and  listen  and  then 
teach  your  children  to  tell  falsehoods! 

The  Neighbour  (comes  forward).  She 
only  told  the  truth. 

The  Lagmanskc.  Two  witnesses  be- 
hind a  bush!  It's  just  like  a  trial  in 
court.  But  look  you !  Vm  up  to  your 
tricks,  and  what  I  have  heard  and  seen  is 
good  enough  evidence  for  me!  Come, 
children. 

Amalie.  Mother,  it's  a  sin  and  a  shame ! 

The  Neighbour  (lays  his  finger  on  his 
mouthy  with  a  sign  to  Amalie). 

Amalie  (to  the  children).  Don't  cry, 
little  ones !  Obey  grandmo^er, — ^it  won't 
hurt  you.  It  is  better  to  suffer  evil  than 
to  do  evil,  and  I  know  you  are  innocent. 
God  protect  you,  and  don't  forget  your 
evening  prayer. 

(The  Lagmanska  goes  off  with  the 
children.) 

Amalie.  It  is  difficult  to  believe,  but  it 
is  sweet  to  be  able  to  do  so. 

The  Neighbour.  Is  it  so  difficult  to  be- 
lieve what  is  good  of  God,  when  He 
wishes  only  what  is  for  our  best  ? 


ADVENT 


31 


Amalie.  Give  me  some  great  gcKxl 
word  of  comfort  for  the  night  that  may 
serve  as  a  pillow  for  my  head  to  sleep 
upon. 

The  Neighbour.  You  shall  have  it.  Let 
me  think.  Listen.  Isaac  was  doomed  to 
be  sacrificed. 

Amalie.  No!  No! 

The  Neighbour.  Be  calm!  Isaac  was 
doomed  to  be  sacrificed,  but  he  was  not 
sacrificed. 

Amalie.  Thanks!  thanks!  and  good- 
night !     (Exit  on  the  right.) 

The  Neighbour.  Good-night,  my  child. 
(Retires  slowly  to  the  back- ground.) 

(A  procession  of  shadows  issues  from 
the  Mausoleum^  with  a  distance  of  five  or 
six  faces  between  every  two;  they  pass 
noiselessly  by:  Death,  with  a  sickle  and 
hour-glass:  the  White  Lady,  fair,  tall  and 
slim,  wearing  a  ring  on  her  finger  set  with 
a  brilliant  emerald;  the  Goldsmith,  with 
the  silver-gilt  monstrance;  the  Beheaded 
Sailor  with  his  head  in  his  ^Mnd;  the 
Auctioneer,  with  hammer  and  notebook; 
the  Chimney-sweep,  with  cord,  scraper  and 
brush;  the  Fool  bearing  his  cap  with 
donkey's  ears  and  bells  on  a  pole,  with 
the  inscription  "  the  cap  of  victory  ";  the 
Land-surveyor,   with   plank  and  tripod; 


32 


ADVENT 


;.«'isv 


the  fudge,  exactly  resembling  the  Lag- 
man,  and  dressed  like  him,  with  a  rope 
round  his  neck;  his  lifted  right  hand  has 
the  index  finger  missing.  As  the  proces- 
sion enters^  it  grows  dark;  and  the  stage 
is  empty  while  it  proceeds,) 

The  Logman  (enters  from  the  left,  fol' 
lowed  by  the  Lagmanska).  What  are  you 
doing  so  late,  wandering  about  like  a 
ghost? 

The  Lagmanska.  What  are  you  doing? 

The  Lagman.  I  could  not  sleep. 

The  Lagmanska.  V*»v  not? 

The  Lagman.  I  dv  w.     I  thought 

I  heard  children  crying  <  cellar. 

The  Lagmanska.  Impossiuie !  Oh,  no  I 
That  is  rot  it.  You  dare  not  sleep,  be- 
cause you  are  afraid  lest  I  should  go  and 
search  your  hiding-place. 

The  Lagman.  And  you  feared  I  would 
rummage  in  yours.  This  is  a  pleasant  old 
age  for  Philemon  and  Baucis. 

The  Lagmanska.  At  any  rate,  no  gods 
come  to  visit  them. 

The  Lagman.  No !  not  gods  exactly. 

(The  Procession  re-issues  from  the 
Mausoleum^  passing  on  towards  the  right.) 

The  Lagmanska.  Mary!  Mother  of 
God !  what  is  that  ? 


ADVENT 


33 


The  Lagman,  Heaven  preserve  us  I 

(A  pause.) 

The  Lagmanska.  Pray !  Pray  for  us  I 

The  Lagman.  I  have  tried,  but  I  can- 
not. 

The  Lagmanska.  Nor  I !  I  have  no 
words  and  no  thoughts. 

(A  pause.) 

The  Lawman.  How  does  the  Lord's 
Prayer  begin  ? 

The  Lagmanska.  I  have  forgotten  it, 
but  I  knew  it  this  morning. 

(A  pause.) 

The  Lagmanska.  Who  is  the  White 
Lady? 

The  Lagman.  It  is  Amalie's  mother, 
the  memory  of  whom  you  wished  to 
obliterate. 

The  Lagmanska.  Are  they  shadows  or 
ghosts,  or  our  own  bad  dreams  ? 

The  Lagman  (takes  out  his  pocket- 
knife).  It  is  the  devil's  jugglery !  I  will 
throw  the  steel  at  them !  Open  the  blade, 
Caroline;  I  cannot,  you  see! 

The  Lagmanska.  Yes,  I  see  that  isn't 
easy  without  a  forefinger.  But  I  cannot 
open  it  either ! 

(Loses  the  knife.) 

The  Lagman.  Alas !  no  steel  is  any  use 


34 


ADVENT 


IS 


the    beheaded 


here.    Alas !     There 
sailor!     Let  us  go! 

The  Lagmanska.  That  is  easily  said; 
but  I  cannot  stir  from  the  spot ! 

The  Lagman.  And  I  feel  as  though  I 
were  nailed  to  the  ground!  No,  I  will 
not  see  any  more.  (Places  his  hand  be- 
fore his  eyes.) 

The  Lagmanska.  But  what  are  they — 
mists  from  the  ground  or  shadows  of  the 

trees  ? 

The  Lagman.  No!  it  is  we  who  see 
visions.  There  I  go  in  person,  and  yet  I 
am  standing  here.  If  I  could  only  sleep 
one  night,  I  would  snap  my  fingers  at 
them.  The  Devil !  Will  it  never  come 
to  an  end  ? 

The  Lagmanska.  Why  do  you  look  at 

them,  then? 

The  Lagman.  I  see  through  my  hand; 
I  see  in  the  dark  through  my  eyelids. 

The  Lagmanska.  Well,  now  it  is  at  an 

end. 

(The  procession  is  over.) 

The  Lagman.  Praise  be but  I  can- 
not say  the  name.  How  can  we  sleep  to- 
night.    We  must  send  for  the  doctor. 

The  Lagmanska.  Or,  perhaps,  for 
Father  Colomba. 

The  Lagman.  He  cannot  help,  and  the 


'%>;^ 


ADVENT 


35 


one  who  could,  will  not.  So  may  The 
Other  One  do  it ! 

The  Other  One  comes  from  behind  the 
chapel  of  the  Madonna.  He  appears 
lean  and  emaciated;  wears  his  brown  hair 
parte di  has  a  thin  beard  like  tow;  old 
shabby  clothes  without  any  linen;  a  red 
woollen  scarf  round  his  neck;  spectacles^ 
and  a  cane  under  his  arm. 

The  Lagman.  Who  is  that? 

The  Other  One  (in  an  undertone).  I 
am  the  Other  One. 

The  Lagman  (to  Lagmanska).  Make 
the  sign  of  the  cross.     I — I  cannot. 

The  Other  One.  The  sign  of  the  cross 
does  not  frighten  me,  for  I  am  going 
through  my  time  of  probation  in  order  to 
be  able  to  bear  it. 

The  Lagman.  Who  are  you.^ 

The  Other  One.  I  became  the  second, 
because  I  wished  to  be  the  first;  I  was  a 
bad  man,  and  as  a  punishment,  had  to 
serve  the  good. 

The  Lagman.  Then  you  are  not  the 
Evil  One.? 

The  Other  One.  Yes,  I  am,  and  I  am 
commissioned  to  drive  you  by  pain  to  the 
Cross,  where  we  shall  hereafter  meet. 

The  Lagmanska.  Don't  listen  to  him! 
Ask  him  to  go. 


I 


m 


36 


ADVENT 


Tke  Other  One.  It  is  no  good !     You 
have  summoned  me  and  must  put  up  with 


me. 


(The  Lagman  and  the  Lagmanska  go 
out  on  the  right.  The  Other  One  follows 
them.) 


ACT  II 


A  large  white-washed  room  with  "  ceil- 
ing  of  black  timber ^  and  deep  narr*  'un- 
barred windows.  Furniture  of  au  .^rts^ 
cheffonierSy  cupboards,  boxes,  and  tables 
are  piled  up  together.  On  them  are 
placed  silver  services,  candelabras,  candle- 
sticks, centre-pieces,  vases,  statuettes,  etc. 

A  door  in  the  background;  on  each  side 
of  it  hang  portraits  of  the  Lagman  and  the 
Lagmanska.  By  a  small  work-table  with 
a  chair  stands  a  harp.  Amalie  stands  by 
a  table  on  the  right  and  scours  a  silver 
coffee-service.  The  sun  shines  in  through 
the  window  in  the  back-ground. 

The  Neighbour  (entering).  Well,  my 
child,  how  are  you  getting  on  with 
patience  ? 

Amalie.  Thank  you,  Neighbour,  pretty 
well.  But  this  silver  service  is  the  hardest 
job  I  have  had  to  do.  I  have  been  scour- 
ing it  for  half  an  hour,  and  it  won't  come 
clean. 

37 


38 


ADVENT 


The  Neighbour.  That  is  strange,  but 
there  must  be  some  good  reason  for  it,  as 
the  Lagman  says.  Did  you  sleep  well, 
last  night  ? 

Amalie.  Yes,  thanks,  very  well.  But 
do  you  know  father  was  outside  all  night 
in  the  vineyard  w'\n  the  rattles? 

The  Neighbour.  Ye- ,  I  heard  it.  What 
silly  idea  had  got  into  his  head  ? 

Amalie.  He  thought  he  heard  the  star- 
lings coming  to  eat  the  gprapes. 

The  Neighbour.  Poor  man!  There 
are  no  starlings  there  at  night!  How 
about  the  children  ? 

Amalie.  Ah,  the  children.  She  has 
them  still  in  the  cellar;  I  only  hope  she 
won't  forget  to  give  them  their  food. 

The  Neighbour.  Amalie,  He  who  reeds 
the  birds,  will  not  forget  the  children. 
And  now  I  will  tell  you  something  of 
which  one  otherwise  should  not  speak. 
There  is  a  small  ventilator  between  my 
wine-cellar  and  the  Lagman's.  This 
morning  when  I  went  down  to  air  the 
cellar,  I  heard  voices.  And  when  I  looked 
through  the  hole,  I  saw  Erich  and  Thyra 
playing  with  a  little  stranger. 

Amalie.  You  saw  them.  Neighbour? 
And 


ADVENT 


39 


The  Neighbour,  They  were  well  and 
cheerful. 

Amalie,  Who,  then,  was  their  play- 
fellow ? 

The  Neighbour.  That  I  can't  imagine. 

Amalie.  The  whole  of  this  dreadful 
house  is  full  of  secrets. 

The  Neighbour,  That  is  true,  but  it  is 
not  our  business  to  search  into  them. 

The  Lagman  (enters  with  a  rattle). 
The  Neighbour  is  here,  plotting  against 
me.  Is  it  not  enough  that  he  has  brought 
starlings  into  my  vineyard  with  his  evil 
eye.  An  evil  eye  he  certainly  has,  but  I 
can  soon  put  it  out.     I  also  can  do  tricks. 

The  Neighbour  (to  Amalie).  Is  it 
worth  while  to  explain  to  him?  He  does 
not  believe  what  one  says !     (Goes.) 

Amalie.  Here  we  can  do  nothing. 

The  Lagman,  Amalie,  have  you  noticed 
where  your  mother  generally  goes  and 
searches  when  she  thinks  herself  alone  ? 

Amalie.  No,  father? 

The  Lagman.  I  saw  by  your  eyes  that 
you  knew.  You  looked  in  this  direction. 
(He  approaches  a  desk  but  steps  into  the 
sunlight.)  The  cursed  sun !  It  ought  to 
be  burnt!  (He  goes  and  lowers  a  win- 
dow curtain  and  turns  again  to  the  desk.) 
It  ought  to  be  here !     Let  us  see !     I  will 


11* 


M 


40  ADVENT 

look  in  the  most  unlikely  place,  for  she  is 
the  most  cunning  of  women;  J?^f  stance, 
here  in  the  perfume-basket.     Quite  right 
/He  takes  out  bank-notes  and  securtttesj 
What  is  this?     Twelve   English  bank- 
notes   worth    a    pound    each.    TweW« 
Ha'    Ha!     One  can  imagine  the  rest! 
(Hides  the  papers.)    But  what  is  that 
noise  outside !     It  is  the  starlings  again ! 
(Goes  to  the  open  window  and  springs  tne 

rattle.)  ttti.  * 

The  Lagmanska  (entering).  What  are 

you  doing  there  ?  . 

The     Lagman.  Aren't     you     m     the 

kitchen?  _ 

The  Lagmanska.  No,  as  you  see.    (I  o 
Amalie)  Have  you  finished  cleaning?    ^ 
Amalie.  No,  mother,  for  the  silver  won  t 
come  clean.     It  must  be  sham. 

The  Lagmanska.  Sham?  Let  me  see. 
Certainly  the  silver  is  black  enough.  (To 
the  Lagman,  who  has  let  down  another 
window-blind)  Where  did  you  get  this  set 

The  Lagman.  I  got  it  from  the  house 
of  someone  who  had  died. 

The  Lagmanska.  Because  you  under- 
took to  make  the  inventory ! 

The  Lagman.  Don't  use  insulting  ex- 


ADVENT 


41 


pressions  which  may  put  you  within  reach 
of  Uie  law. 

The  Lagmanska.  Is  he  mad,  or  I  ? 

The  Lagman.  Besides,  it  is  silver,  hall- 
marked silver. 

The  Lagmanska.  Then  it  is  Amalie's 
fault. 

A  Voice  (calling  in  through  the  win- 
dow). The  Lagman  can  make  white  black, 
but  he  cannot  make  black  white. 

The  Lagman.  Who  said  that? 

The  Lagmanska.  It  seemed  to  me  a 
starling  who  spoke. 

The  Lagman  (letting  down  the  remain- 
ing blind).  Now  the  sun  has  come  round 
here ;  I  thought  it  was  there  just  now. 

The  Lagmanska  (to  Amalie).  Who  was 
it  that  spoke  ? 

Amalie.  I  think  it  was  the  new  school- 
master with  the  red  scarf. 

The  Lagman.  Pah!  Let  us  talk  of 
something  else. 

(Enter  a  Maid)  The  breakfast  is 
ready.     (Goes.) 

(Pause.) 

The  Lagmanska.  Go  down  and  eat, 
Amalie. 

Amalie.  Thank  you,  mother.     (Goes.) 

(The  Lagman  sits  down  on  a  chair  by  a 
box.) 


42 


ADVENT 


m 


The  Lagmanska  (approaching  the  desk 
on  which  the  perfume-basket  stands). 
Won't  you  go  and  eat? 

The  Logman.  No,  I  am  not  hungry. 

Won't  y<?«  go? 

The  Lagmanska.  I  have  just  eaten. 

(Pause.)  .  2  L      J 

The  Lagman  (takes  a  piece  of  bread 
out  of  his  pocket).  Then  excuse  my  eat- 
ing. 

The  Lagmanska.  There  is  venison  on 

the  table. 

The  Lagman.  What  nonsense  you  are 

talking !  .  .  ,      i.  x    t 

The    Lagmanska.  You    think    that    1 

would  poison  the  food? 

The  Lagman.  Yes,  I  do;  for  it  tasted 
of  creosote  this  morning. 

The  Lagmanska.  And  what  I  ate  tasted 

of  lead .    *  T 

The  Lagman.  If  I  assure  you  that  1 

have  put  nothing  in  your  food 

The  Lagmanska.  I  don't  believe  you. 

And  if  I  assert 

The  Lagman.  I  don't  believe  you. 
(Eats  his  bread.)  Venison  is  good,  I  can 
smell  it  here,  but  bread  is  no.  bad. 

(Pause.) 

The  Lagmanska.  Why  do  you  sit  there 
and  keep  watch  over  the  box? 


ADVENT 


43 


The  Lagman.  For  the  same  reason  that 
you  guard  the  perfume-basket. 

The  Lagmanska.  Ah !  you  have  been  at 
it,  burglar ! 

The  Lagman.  Corpse-robber! 

The  Lagmanska.  Think!  Such  words 
between  us !    Us !    (Weeps.) 

The  Lagman.  Yes,  the  world  is  wicked, 
and  people  are  bad. 

The  Lagmanska.  Yes,  you  may  well 
say  that,  and  they  are  ungrateful  to  boot. 
Ungrateful  children  who  steal  one's  lease, 
ungrateful  grand-children  who  steal  the 
fruit  from  the  tree.  You  are  right;  the 
world  is  bad 

The  Lagman.  Who  can  know  it  better 
than  I  who  have  seen  all  kinds  of  disgrace 
and  have  been  obliged  to  pass  the  death- 
sentence.  Therefore  the  people  hate  me 
as  though  I  had  made  the  law. 

The  Lagmanska.  What  people  say, 
signifies  nothing  so  long  as  one  has  a 
clean  conscience 

(Three  knocks  are  heard  in  the  large 
cupboard.) 

What  is  it?    Who  is  there? 

The  Lagman.  It  was  the  cupboard.  It 
always  cracks  in  rainy  weather. 

(Three  distinct  knocks  are  again  heard.) 


44  ADVENT 

The  Lagmanska.  This  is  some  trick  of 
that  wandering  mountebank's. 

(The  cover  of  the  coffee  kettle,  which 
Amalie  has  just  scoured,  flies  open  and 
falls  again  several  times.) 

The  Lagman.  What  is  that? 

The  Lagmanska.  These  t  the  black 
arts  of  this  wizard,  but  he  cannot  frighten 

me. 

(The  beer-can  clinks.) 

The  Lagmcn.  You  believe  it  is  magnet- 
ism? 

The  Lagmanska.  Yes,  as  they  call  it 

nowadays 

The  Lagman.  It  may  be  so,  but  how  can 
he  know  our  secrets. 

The  Lagmanska.  Secrets?  What  do 
you  mean? 

(The  clock  strikes  a  great  many  times.) 

The  Lagman.  This  makes  me  nervous. 

The  Lagmanska.  Devil  take  me  if  I 
stay  here  any  longer ! 

(The  sun- gleam  falls  on  the  Lag- 
manska* s  portrait.) 

You  see !    It  knows  the  secret,  too  I 

The  Lagman.  You  mean  that  there  is 
a  portrait  of  her  behind  yours. 

The  Lagmanska.  Come  on !  Let  us  go 
down  and  eat.    Later  on  let  us  discuss 


•i 


ADVENT 


45 


selling  the  place  and  everything  belong- 
ing to  it,  at  an  auction 

The  Logman.  Yes,  you  are  right.  Let 
us  sell  up  every  stick  and  stone,  make  a 
clean  sweep  of  the  old  and  begin  a  new 
life !     Let  us  go  and  eat ! 

(The  Other  appears  in  the  door-way.) 

(The  Lagman  and  the  Lugmanska  start 
back.) 

The  Lagman.  This  is  no  ordinary  man ! 

The  Lagmanska.  Speak  to  him ! 

The  Lagman  (to  The  Other).  Who  are 
you? 

The  Other.  I  have  told  you  twice,  but 
your  incredulity  is  one  of  your  punish- 
ments, for  if  you  believed  me  it  would 
shorten  your  sufferings. 

"^he  Lagman  (to  the  Lagmanska).  It  is 
he.  I  am  freezing  to  ice.  How  shall  we 
get  rid  of  him?  They  say  that  unclean 
spirits  cannot  bear  the  sound  of  music. 
Play  on  the  harp  to  him,  Caroline. 

(The  Lagmanska  sits  down  nervously 
at  the  table,  takes  the  harp,  and  plays  a 
solemn  overture  in  a  minor  key.) 

(The  Other  listens  attentively  and  with 
emotion.) 

The  Lagmanska  (to  the  Lagman).  Has 
he  gone  ? 

The  Other.  Thank  you.  Madam,  for  the 


46 


ADVENT 


music;  it  deadens  grief  and  awakens 
memories  of  better  things,  even  m  a  lost 
soul.  Thank  you,  Madam.  As  regards 
the  auction,  I  believe  you  are  quite  right, 
although  I  think  it  would  be  better 
honestly  to  declare  yourselves  bankrupt; 
yes,  to  give  up  all  claims  and  to  let  each 
have  his  own. 

The  Lagman.  Bankrupt!     I  have  no 

debts! 

The  Other.  No  debts ! 

The  Lagmanska,  My  husband  has  no 

debts.  .    „«     .         # 

The  Other,  No  debts !    Who  is  so  for- 
tunate as  that? 

The  Lagman.  Yes,  it  is  so.  Others 
owe  me  debts 

The  Other.  Forgive  them  then ! 

The  Lagman.  It  is  not  a  question  of 
forgiveness  but  of  payment. 

The  Other.  Very  well.  Then  you  will 
have  to  pay!  Farewell  for  the  present. 
We  shall  often  meet  again,  and  finally  at 
the  Great  Auction.  (Goes  out  back- 
wards.) 

The  Lagman.  The  sun  makes  him 
nervous,  too !    Ha !  Ha ! 

The  Other.  For  the  present,  yes.  But 
when  I  have  once  become  accustomed  to 


ADVENT 


47 


the  light,  I  shall  hate  the  darkness! 
(Exit.) 

The  Lagmanska  (to  the  Lagrnan)  t 
you  think  that  that is  the  Ot>  tx  v  «e. 

The  Lagrnan.  That  is  not  iiis  tra- 
ditional aspect,  but  times  change,  aua  we 
with  them.  Formerly  he  was  said  to  be- 
stow fame  and  gold,  but  now  he  comes 
and  asks 

The  Lagmanska.  He  is  an  ass  and  a 
mountebank,  that  is  all !  A  creature  who 
dares  not  bite  although  he  would  like  to. 

The  Other  (re-af pears  in  the  door). 
Beware  of  me !     Beware ! 

The  Lagrnan  (raising  his  right  hand). 
Beware  yourself. 

The  Other  raises  his  hand  and  makes 
as  though  he  were  firing  a  pistol.  Away ! 

The  Lagman  (staring  fixedly  it  his 
gesture).  Alas! 

The  Other.  You  have  never  believed 
in  good,  now  you  shall  believe  in  evil. 
Look  you !  The  All-good  cannot  do  evil, 
therefore  he  leaves  it  to  such  wretches  as 
I  am.  But  to  make  things  more  certain, 
you  shall  torture  each  other  and  your- 
selves. 

The  Lagmanska  (kneeling  before  the 
Other).  Spare  us !     Help  us !     Mercy. 

The  Other  (making  a  gesture  of  rend- 


48 


ADVENT 


ing  his  clothes).  Stand  up !  Alas !  There 
is  only  One  to  whom  you  should  pray. 

Stand  up,  or Now,  you  believe  me, 

although  I  have  no  red  cap  and  sword  and 
purse,  and  cannot  make  jokes ;  but  beware 
of  making  a  jest  of  me.  I  am  as  serious 
as  sin  and  severe  as  retribution.  I  have 
not  come  to  lure  you  with  offers  of  gold 
and  honour,  but  to  scourge  you  with  rods 
and  scorpions.  (The  clock  strikes  as  be- 
fore; it  grows  dark.)  Your  time  is  hurry- 
ing to  a  close,  therefore  set  your  house  in 
order,  for  you  must  die.  (Thunder  is 
heard  as  if  a  storm  had  begun.)  Whose 
voice  speaks  now.-^  Say,  and  try  to 
frighten  Him  with  a  rattle  when  He  blasts 
your  vintage.  Storm  and  Hail  is  his 
name,  and  he  carries  devastation  in  His 
wings,  and  punishment  in  His  grasp. 
Now  put  on  your  "  cap  of  victory  "  and 
arm  yourself  with  a  good  conscience. 
(The  rattle  of  hail  is  heard.) 

The  Lagman.  Mercy ! 

The  Other  One.  Yes,  if  thou  promisest 
reformation. 

The  Lagman.  I  vow  and  swear 

The  Other  One.  Thou  canst  not  swear, 
for  thou  hast  already  sworn  falsely.  But 
promise,  first  of  all,  to  free  the  children 
and  then  all  the  rest. 


ADVENT 


49 


The  Logman.  I  promise!  Before  the 
sun  goes  down  the  children  shall  be  here. 

The  Other  One.  That  is  the  first  step 
forward,  but  if  thou  turnest  back,  thou 
shalt  see  that  I  rightly  bear  my  title;  for 
my  name  is  T  egion ! 

(Lifts  his  cane  and  the  Lagtnan  is  re- 
leased from  his  paralytic  cramp.) 


ACT  III 


Scene  I 

'A  wine-cellar  with  a  row  of  casks  on 
the  left  and  right.  An  iron  door  in  the 
background.  The  casks  are  marked  with 
different  signs;  on  the  first  are  small  trays 
on  which  stand  glasses.  On  the  right  in 
the  foreground  is  a  wine-press  and  a 
couple  of  straw-bottomed  chairs.  Flasks, 
funnels,  siphons,  etc.,  are  lying  here  and 
there. 

Erich  and  Thyra  are  sitting  by  the  wine- 
press. 

Erich.  It  is  dull  here. 

Thyra.  That  is  because  grandmother  is 
horrid. 

Erich.  You  should  not  speak  so ! 

Thyra.  Maybe !     But  she  is  horrid. 

Erich.  Thyra,  don't  talk  so!  for  then 
the  little  Boy  won't  come  again  and  play 
with  us. 


ADVENT 


51 


Thyra,  Very  well,  then,  I  won't  speak 
so,  any  more.     If  it  were  only  not  so  dark. 

Erich.  Don't  you  remember  that  the 
Boy  said  we  should  not  complain. 

Thyra.  Then  I  won't  do  it  any  more. 
(The  sun- gleam  appears  on  the  ground.) 
Oh!  see  the  sun-shine!  She  jumps  up 
and  stands  in  it. 

Erich.  Thyra,  don't  tread  on  the  sun- 
light !     That  is  wrong. 

Thyra.  No !  I  don't  tread  on  it  on  pur- 
pose. I  only  want  to  have  it  near  me. 
See !  now  I  have  i^  in  my  arms  and  now  I 
stroke  it.  No!  .e:;  it  kisses  me  on  the 
mouth. 

(The  Play f ell  ^  comes  forward  from 
behind  a  cask.  He  is  dressed  in  a  white 
tunic  reaching  down  to  the  knee^  with  a 
blue  sash.  He  is  fair  and  wears  sandals. 
As  he  enters^  the  cellar  grows  light.) 

Erich  (goes  towards  him).  Good  morn- 
ing little  one.  Come  and  greet  him, 
Thyra.  What  is  your  name,  young  one.? 
To-day  you  must  tell  us. 

(The  Playfellow  looks  at  him.) 

Thyra.  Erich,  don't  be  so  meddling! 
You  make  him  shy.  Who  is  your  father, 
little  one  } 

The  Playfellow.  Don't  be  so  curious. 
When  you  have  learnt  to  know  me  better. 


52 


ADVENT 


you  will  find  out  all  that.    But  now,  let  us 

play. 

Thyra.  Yes,  but  not  something  instruc- 
tive; that  is  so  dull.  It  must  only  be 
pretty. 

The  Playfellow  {smiling).  Shall  I  tell 
you  a  story? 

Thyra.  Yes,  but  not  one  of  the  Bible 
stories,  for  we  know  them  by  heart. 

(The  Playfellow  smiles.) 

Erich.  Thyra,  you  vex  him  by  talking 

so. 

The  Playfellow.  No,  little  friend,  I  am 
not  vexed.  But  if  you  are  quite  good  now, 
we  will  go  out  and  play. 

Efich.  Oh,  yes!  Oh,  yes!  But  we 
cannot  because  of  grandmother. 

The  Playfellow.  Yes,  you  can !  Grand- 
mother has  said  that  she  would  like  to  see 
you  free,  and  therefore  let  us  go,  before 
she  changes  her  mind.     Come ! 

Thyra.  Oh,  how  jolly !     Oh ! 

The  door  in  the  back-ground  opens; 
outside  is  a  yellow  sunlit  rye-field  with 
cornflowers  and  daisies. 

The  Playfellow.  Come,  children! 
Come  out  in  the  sun  and  be  happy! 
(They  go  out;  the  door  shuts  of  itself.) 

(Pause.) 


ADVENT 


53 


» k' 


(Enter  the  Lagman  with  a  lantern,  and 
the  Lagmanska  with  a  rod.) 

The  Lagmanska.  Here  it  is  dark  and 
cool ;  and  one  is  not  plagued  by  the  sun. 

The  Lagman.  Yes,  and  it  is  quiet  too. 
But  where  are  the  children?  (They  look 
for  them.) 

The  Lagman.  I  believe  we  have  been 
taken  at  our  word. 

The  Lagmanska.  We?  /  promised 
nothing,  for  he — you  know — spoke  at  the 
end  only  to  you. 

The  Lagman.  That  may  be,  but  this 
time  we  had  to  obey,  for  I  don't  want  to  be 
frightened  any  more  with  showers  of  hail 
and  that  sort  of  thing.  Meanwhile  the 
children  are  not  here,  and  they  will  soon 
come  again,  when  they  are  hungry. 

The  Lagmanska.  And  then  I  congratu- 
late them !  (The  rod  is  snatched  out  of 
her  hand,  and  disappears  behind  a  cask.) 
There  are  the  tricks  again ! 

The  Lagman.  Well  now,  submit,  and  do 
as  he — you  know  who — says.  I,  for  my 
part,  cannot  do  any  more  wrong.  The 
vines  are  spoiled,  and  one  must  be  thank- 
ful for  what  one  has  under  cover.  Come 
here,  Caroline,  we  will  strengthen  our- 
selves with  a  glass  of  something  good. 
(He  draws  some  wine  from  a  cask  into  a 


54 


ADVENT 


glass,)  This  belongs  to  the  comet  year 
1869,  when  the  great  comet  came,  and 
people  said  it  prophesied  war.  And  war 
there  was.  (He  offers  the  Lagmanska  a 
full  glass.) 

The  Lagmanska.  You  drink  first ! 

The  Lagman.  No;  do  you  think  that 
there  is  poison  also  in  this  ? 

The  Lagmanska.  I  don't  think  so  now, 
but  we  shall  never  have  any  peace  or  hap- 
piness again. 

The  Lagman.  Do  as  I  do;  submit! 
(He  drinks.) 

The  Lagmanska.  I  should  like  to  do 
so,  and  try  to  also,  but  when  I  think  how 
badly  others  have  treated  us,  I  feel  as  good 
as  they  are.  (Drinks.)  That  is  a  good 
wine.    (Sits  down.) 

The  Lagman.  The  wine  is  good  and 
raises  the  spirits.  Yes,  the  wise  man  says 
we  are  all  on  the  same  level,  and  I  cannot 
understand  why  one  should  lord  it  over 
others.  (Drinks.)  I,  for  my  part,  have 
always  acted  legally,  that  is  according  to 
valid  laws  and  prescripts;  if  others  were 
ignorant  of  the  law,  that  is  their  fault,  for 
no  one  ought  to  be  ignorant  of  it.  Thus, 
if  Adolf  does  not  pay  his  rent,  he  is  the 
law-breaker,  not  I. 

The  Lagmanska.  You  get  the  blame, 


S.V 


ADVENT 


55 


however,  and  are  regarded  as  a  criminal. 
But  is  it  not  as  I  say?  there  is  no  more  jus- 
tice in  the  world.  If  you  did  what  was 
right,  you  would  take  proceedings  against 
Adolf  and  evict  the  whole  family,  but  it  is 
not  yet  too  late.    (Drinks.) 

The  Lagman.  Yes,  you  see,  if  I  \  '-.shed 
to  act  completely  in  accordance  with  law, 
I  would  insist  on  the  dissolution  of  his 
marriage,  and  then  he  would  be  disin- 
herited. 

The  Lagmanska.  Well,  do  it  then. 

The  Lagman  (looking  round).  N — No 
— Yes!  It  would  certainly  be  going  to 
work  thoroughly.  Separation  would  not 
be  granted,  but  the  marriage  might  be  de- 
clared null  on  the  ground  of  informalities. 

The  Lagmanska.  Were  there  any  then  } 

The  Lagman  (a  little  flushed  with 
wine).  One  can  always  find  informalities, 
if  one  looks  for  them. 

The  Lagmanska.  Very  well!  This 
good-for-nothing  waits  for  our  death,  but 
now  let  him  give  himself  airs  with  the  law 
of  nature  which  drives  drones  out  into  the 
street. 

The  Lagman.  Ha !  Ha !  You  are  right, 
right !  And  do  you  know,  when  I  consider 
the  matter  exactly,  what  have  we  to  re- 
proach ourselves  with,  what  ill  have  we 


56 


ADVENT 


done  ?  That  matter  about  the  monstrance 
is  too  trival  to  talk  about,  and  has  injured 
nobody;  and  to  say  that  I  have  perjured 
myself,  is  simply  a  lie.  I  only  had  a  whit- 
low in  my  nnger,  and  that  was  quite 
natural. 

The  Lagmanska,  Yes,  I  am  quite  sure 

of  that and  as  to  the  hailstorm  that  is 

as  easy  to  explain  as  if  it  were  set  down 
in  the  almanack. 

The  LaQinan,  So  I  think  also.  There- 
fore, Caroline,  th-^  best  thing  would  be  to 
forget  that  last  silly  talk,  and  apply  to 
another  priest  to  have  tlie  Mausoleum 
consecrated. 

The  Lagmanska.  Why  not? 

The  Lagman.  Why  not?  Perhaps  be- 
cause this  mesmeriser  goes  about  squawk- 
ing. 

The  Lagmanska.  Tell  me,  do  you  think 
he  is  only  a  mesmeriser? 

The  Lagman  (braggingly).  He!  He 
is  a  charlatan  of  the  first  order.  A  char- 
la-tan  ! 

The  Lagmanska  (looking  round).  I 
am  not  so  sure. 

The  Lagman.  But  I  am.  Sure.  And 
if  he  came  before  my  eyes,  now  for 
example,  I  would  drink  to  him  and  say, 
"Your  health!  old  thief!" 


ADVENT 


57 


(His  lifted  glass  is  snatched  out  of  his 
hand  and  disappears.) 

What  is  that?  (The  lantern  is  ex- 
tinguished.) 

The  Lagmanska.  Help! 

(There  is  a  sound  of  a  storm-wind  and 
then  it  is  still.) 

The  Logman.  Only  get  some  matches 
and  I  will  clear  this  up.  For  now  I  fear 
nothing.     Nothing ! 

The  Lagmanska.  Yes,  yes.  If  you 
escape  with  your  life (Goes.) 

The  Lagman.  Be  quiet !     Be  quiet ! 

The  Other  One  (comes  from  behind  a 
cask).  Now  we  will  speak  alone  together. 

The  Lagman  (frightened).  Where 
have  you  come  from.!* 

The  Other  One.  That  doesn't  concern 
you. 

The  Lagman  (rising).  Why  do  you  talk 
like  that.? 

The  Other  One.  It  is  your  style  of  talk. 
Off  with  your  cap !  (Blows  on  the  Lag- 
man,  whose  cap  falls  off.)  Listen  now  to 
your  sentence.  You  have  wished  to 
separate  what  He  (Whose  name  I  cannot 
mention)  has  joined  together.  Therefore 
you  shall  be  separated  from  the  support 
of  your  old  age,  and  run  the  gauntlet 


58 


ADVENT 


alone,  and  alone  suffer  the  tortures  of 
sleeplessness. 

The  Lagman.  Is  that  merciful  ? 

The  Other.  That  is  justice,  that  is  the 
law.  Eye  for  eve  and  tooth  for  tooth. 
The  Gospel  speaks  differently  but  you  re- 
fuse to  listen  to  that.  Up  and  run! 
(Lifts  his  cane  in  the  air,) 


Scene  I! 

A  garden  with  cypresses  clipped  in  the 
shape  of  obeliskSf  candeiabras,  vases^  etc. 
Underneath  them  grow  roses^  hollyhockst 
and  digitalis.  In  the  midst  is  a  spring 
over  which  leans  a  gigantic  fuchsia 
(Christi  sanguis)  in  bloom.  I  the  back- 
ground a  yellow  field  of  ripe  rye  with  corn- 
flowers and  daisies:  with  a  scarecrow  in 
the  middle.  Far  in  the  distance  are  seen 
vineyards  and  rocks  of  light  yellow  slate, 
with  beech-woods  and  ruins  of  castles. 
There  is  a  high-road  in  the  back-ground; 
on  the  right  a  covered  arched  way  of 
foliage.    Before  it  a  Madonna  and  child. 

(Enter  the  Playfellow,  holding  Erich 
and  Thyra  by  the  hand.) 

Erich.  Oh!  how  pretty!  oh! 


ADVENT 


59 


Thyra.  Who  lives  here? 

The  Playfellow.  Those  whom  it  suits, 
are  here  at  home. 

Thyra.  Can  we  play  here? 

The  Playfellow.  Everywhere,  except 
in  the  alley  on  the  right. 

Erich.  And  we  can  pick  flowers,  too? 

The  Playfellow.  You  can  pick  any 
flowers,  but  don't  touch  the  fuchsia  by  the 
sprp  jf,  little  friends. 

'  tyra.  What  sort  of  a  plant  is  that? 

Ilrich.  That  is  (lowering  his  voice) 
"  Christi  Sanguis,"  I  know. 

Thyra.  Erich,  you  should  make  the 
sign  of  the  Cross  when  you  name  God's 
name. 

Erich  (crossing  himself).  Tell  us,  little 
boy,  why  must  we  not  touch  the  plant? 

Thyra.  Erich,  don't  be  so  inquisitive, 
but  obey !  But  tell  us,  little  boy,  what  is 
tiie  ugly  scarecrow  there  for?  Cannot  we 
take  it  away? 

The  Playfellow.  Yes,  take  it  away  if 
you  like,  then  the  birds  will  come  and  sing 
to  us. 

(Erich  and  Thyra  hurry  to  the  back- 
ground ^  and  pull  the  scarecrow  down.) 

Erich.  Get  away  with  you,  ugly  scare- 
crow !    Come  now  little  birds  and  eat. 


ifi. '  - 


60 


ADVENT 


i 


(The  gold-bird  flies  in  from  the  ri^hi 
and  settles  on  the  fuchsia.) 

Thyra.  Oh,  how  pretty  he  is !  Can  he 
sing  too  ? 

(The  gold-bird  gives  a  call  like  the 
cuckoo.) 

Erich.  Do  you  understand,  little  boy, 
what  the  bird  sings? 

The  Playfellow.  No,  songs  are  the 
birds'  little  secrets,  and  they  have  the 
r^'grht  to  keep  them  to  themselves. 

Thyra.  Yes,  Erich !  Else  the  children 
would  find  out  where  their  nest  is,  and 
then  they  would  go  and  take  their  eggs, 
and  then  the  birds  would  be  so  sad  and 
could  have  no  more  little  ones. 

Erich.  Thyra,  you  are  very  knowing! 

The  Playfellow  (lays  his  finger  on  his 
mouth).  Hush  I  Someone  is  coming ! 
Let  us  see  if  he  suits  us  or  not. 

(Enter  a  little  chimney-sweeps  stands 
bewildered t  and  stares.) 

The  Playfellow.  Well,  little  boy,  won't 
you  come  and  play  with  us? 

The  Little  Chimney-sweep  (takes  off 
his  cap,  embarrassed).  You  won't  play 
with  me. 

The  Playfellow.  Why  not? 

The  Chimneysweep.  I   am   so  sooty; 


ADVENT 


6i 


and 
what 


besides  I  cannot  play;  I  don't  know 
at  is. 

Thyra.  Think!  the  poor  little  boy  has 
never  played. 

The  Playfellow.  What  is  your  name? 

The  Chimney-sweep.  Name?  They 
call  me  Olle,  but 

The  Playfellow.  What  is  your  other 
name? 

The  Chimney-sweep.  Other  name?  I 
haven't  got  any  other. 

The  Playfellow.  Who  is  your  father? 

The    Chimney-sweep.    I    haven't     ^ot 

one. 

The  Playfellow.  Your  mother? 

The  Chimney-sweep.  I  don't  know. 

The  Playfellow.  He  has  no  father  nor 
mother.  Come,  little  boy,  to  the  spring, 
and  then  you  will  be  as  white  as  a  young 
prince. 

The  Chimney-sweep.  If  anyone  else 
had  said  so,  I   vuuld  not  have  believe'  it. 

The  J  ay  fellow.  How  is  it  that  'ou 
believe  ire,  *hen? 

The  Chimney-sweep.  I  don't  know,  but 
I  think  yoi    look  as  if  it  were  true. 

The  Playfellow.  Thyra,  give  the  little 
bo  your  h^nd!  Will  you  give  him  a 
kisf  too  ? 

Thyra  (hesitates  at  first).  Yet>,  if  you 


62 


ADVENT 


ask    me    too!      (Kisses    the    Chimney- 
sweep.) 

The  Playfellow  (dips  his  hand  in  the 
spring  and  sprinkles  the  chimney-sweeps s 
face;  his  black  mask  falls  off).  See! 
now  you  are  white !  Go  now  behind  that 
rose-bush,  and  you  will  get  new  clothes. 

The  Chimney-sweep.  Why  do  I  get  all 
this  which  I  have  not  deserved? 

The  Playfellow.  Because  you  think  you 
did  not  deserve  it. 

The  Chimney-sweep  (goes  behind  the 
rose-bush).  I  thank  you,  although  I  don't 
understand  your  meaning. 

Thyra.  Why  was  the  little  boy  made  a 
chimney-sweep.?  Because  he  was 
naughty.? 

The  Playfellow.  No;  but  he  had  a 
naughty  guardian  who  sent  him  out  into 
the  world  to  shift  for  himself.  See  how 
fine  he  looks  now ! 

(The  Chimney-sweep  comes  forward  in 
gay  summer  clothes.) 

The  Playfellow.  Go  now  to  the  arbour- 
walk  and  you  will  find  someone  who  loves 
you,  and  will  make  much  of  you. 

The  Chimney-sweep.  Who  can  make 
much  of  me  } 

The  Play-fellow.  Look! 

(The     Chimney-sweep    goes    to     the 


ADVENT 


63 


arbouf'Walk,  where  a  lady  dressed  in 
white  meets  him  and  embraces  him.) 

Thyra.  Who  lives  there? 

The  Playfellow  (putting  his  finger  to 
his  mouth).  Are  you  curious  to  know? 
But  who  comes  there  ? 

(The  Lagmanska  enters  on  the  high 
road  with  a  sack  on  her  back,  and  a  stick 
in  her  hand.) 

Erich.  It  is  grandmother !  Now  we  are 
done  for ! 

Thyra.  Alas!     It  is  grandmother! 

The  Playfellow.  Keep  quiet,  children. 
I  will  take  the  blame  on  myself. 

Erich.  No!  you  cannot,  for  then  they 
will  beat  you. 

The  Playfellow.  Well!  cannot  I  take 
blows  for  my  friends  ? 

Erich.  No !  I  will  take  them. 

Thy*a.  And  I  too. 

The  Playfellow.  Hush!  Come  here 
and  you  will  escape  scolding.  (They 
hide  themselves.) 

The  Lagmanska  (advancing  to  the 
spring).  Here  is  the  famous  spring  which 
is  said  to  cure  everything — of  course,  since 
the  angel  has  touched  it !  But  it  is  all  a 
lie.  But  one  can  at  any  rate  quench  thirst 
there,  and  water  is  water!  (She  stoops 
over  the  spring.)     But  what  do  I  see? 


64 


ADVENT 


Erich  and  Thyra  with  a  strange  play- 
fellow !  What  does  that  mean  ?  For  they 
are  not  here?  This  must  be  a  magic 
spring.  (She  takes  her  cuf,  fills  it  and 
drinks.)  Faugh t  it  tastes  of  copper! 
Can  he  have  hien  here  and  poisonecl  the 
water  too?  Everything  is  poisoned! 
Everything!  Everything!  I  am  tired, 
although  my  age  has  not  affected  me 
otherwise.  (She  looks  at  her  reflection  in 
the  spring  with  an  air  of  satisfaction.) 

On  the  contrary,  I  look  quite  young 

but  it  is  difficult  to  walk  and  still  harder 
to  rise.  (She  makes  efforts  to  get  on  her 
legs).  My  God,  my  God,  have  mercy  on 
me,  otherwise  I  must  remain  lying. 

The  Playfellow  (signs  to  the  children 
to  remain  where  they  are;  then  goes  and 
wipes  the  perspiration  from  the  LAig- 
manska*s  forehead).  Stand  up  and  don't 
be  wicked  any  more. 

The  Lagmanska  (rising).  Who  is  that? 
Ah !  that  is  the  fine  fellow,  who  entices  my 
children  in  evil  ways ! 

The  Playfellow.  Go!  ungrateful 
woman!  I  wipe  the  perspiration  from 
your  forehead,  and  lift  you  up  when  you 
had  fallen  down,  and  you  scold  me  in  re- 
turn.   Go!  Go! 

(The    Lagmanska    looks    at    him    in 


ADVENT 


6S 


eyes 


astonishment;   then   she   casts   her 
down,  turns  and  goes  out,) 

(Erich  and  Thyra  come  forward.) 

Erich.  But  it  is  a  pity  about  grand- 
mother anyhow,  although  she  is  horrid. 

Thyra.  This  is  dull,  and  I  will  go 
home. 

The  Playfellow.  Wait  a  little.  Don't 
be  impatient.  See,  there  comes  someone 
else  we  know. 

(The  Lagman  enters  on  the  high  road.) 

The  Playfellow.  He  cannot  come  here 
and  defile  the  spring.  (He  motions  with 
his  hand;  a  sun-gleam  falls  on  the  Lag- 
man,  so  that  he  turns  and  goes  out.)  It 
is  good  of  you,  children,  to  be  sorry  for 
the  old  people,  but  you  must  believe  that 
I  am  acting  justly.     Do  you.? 

Erich  and  Thyra.  Yes,  we  believe  you. 

Thyra.  But  I  should  like  to  go  home  to 
mother. 

The  Playfellow.  You  will  be  able  to. 

(The  Other  One  appears  in  *he  back- 
ground and  goes  behind  the  bushes.) 

The  Playfellow.  For  I  must  go  now. 
The  Angel  us  will  soon  be  ringing. 

Erich.  Where  are  you  going  then.? 

The  Playfellow.  I  have  other  children 
to  play  widi,  far  away  where  you  cannot 


ri 


la 


66 


ADVENT 


come.  But  if  I  leave  you  now  here,  don't 
forget  what  T  told  you  about  not  touching 
the  Fuchsia-plant. 

Erich.  We  will  obey !  We  will !  But 
don't  go;  it  will  soon  be  dark. 

The  Playfellow.  Never  mind !  A  boy 
who  has  a  good  conscience  and  can  say 
his  evening-prayers  need  not  be  afraid  of 
anything. 

Thyra.  When  will  you  come  back  to 

us,  little  boy? 

The  Playfellow.  I  will  come  again  at 
Christmas,  and  every  Christmas !  Good- 
night, little  friends.  (He  kisses  them  on 
the  forehead,  and  retires  towards  the  back- 
ground between  the  bushes;  when  he  re- 
appears in  the  background,  he  carries  a 
little  cross  with  a  flag.  The  Angelus  be- 
gins to  ring.  The  Playfellow  lifts  the 
flag  and  signs  to  the  children;  a  clear 
white  light  shines  round  him,  and  he  dis- 
appears.) 

(Erich  and  Thyra  kneel  and  pray 
silently  while  the  Angelus  is  ringing.) 

Erich  (crossing  himself).  Do  you  know, 
Thyra,  who  the  boy  was.^* 

Thyra.  That  was  the  Saviour. 

(The  Other  One  comes  forward.) 

Thyra  is  frightened  and  flies  to  Erich, 
who  protects  her  with  his  arms.  Oh !  Oh ! 


ADVENT 


67 


Erich  (to  the  Other  One).  What  do 
you  want,  you  horrid  thing? 

The  Other  One.    I   only  wanted 

Look  at  me ! 

Erich.  Yes! 

The  Other  One.  I  look  like  this  because 
I  once  touched  the  plant ;  and  then  \  took 
pleasure  in  tempting  others  to  do  it.  But 
now  that  I  am  old,  I  have  repented,  and 
now  I  go  among  men,  and  warn  them,  but 
now  no  one  believes  me — no  one,  because 
I  once  lied. 

Erich.  You  do  not  need  to  warn  us,  for 
you  cannot  entice  us. 

The  Other  One.  Oho!  Don't  be  so 
proud,  little  friend !  Otherwise  you  are  a 
nne  fellow. 

Erich.  Go  your  way  then ;  I  won't  listen 
to  you  any  more.  And  you  frighten  my 
sister. 

The  Other  One.  I  will  go,  for  I  don't 
belong  here,  and  I  have  business  else- 
where.    Farewell,  children. 

Amalie*s  voice  on  the  right.  Erich  and 
Thyra ! 

Erich  and  Thyra.  Oh,  that  is  mama! 
Dear  mama ! 

(Amalie  enters.  Erich  and  Thyra 
spring  in  her  arms.  The  Other  One  looks 
on  with  emotion  and  goes.) 


J 


ACT  IV 

Scene  I 

Cross-roads  in  a  pine-forest.  Moon- 
light. 

The  Witch  sitting  and  waiting. 

The  Lagmanska.  There  at  last!  There 
you  are ! 

The  Witch.  You  have  kept  me  waiting; 
why  have  you  called  me? 

The  Lagmanska.  Help  me. 

The  Witch.  How? 

The  Lagmanska.  Against  my  enemies. 

The  Witch.  There  is  only  one  help 
against  your  enemies ;  do  them  good. 

The  Lagmanska.  The  deuce  it  is!  I 
think  the  world  has  been  turned  upside 
down. 

The  Witch.  Yes,  so  it  seems. 

The  Lagmanska.  Even  the  Other  One 
— ^you  know  whom  I  mean — ^himself  is 
changed. 

The  Witch.  Then,  you  may  have  your 
turn  too. 


ADVENT 


69 


The  Lagmanska.  You  mean  that  I  am 
getting  old,  yet  it  is  not  more  than  three 
weeks  since  I  danced  at  a  wedding. 

The  Witch,  If  that  is  what  you  like, 
you  can  have  plenty  of  it,  for  there  will 
be  a  ball  here  to-night,  though  I  cannot 
take  part  in  it. 

The  Lagmanska.  Here? 

The  Witch.  Jusf.  here;  it  begins  when 
I  choose. 

The  Lagmanska.  What  a  pity  that  I 
have  not  my  low-bodied  dress  with  me. 

The  Witch.  I  can  lend  you  one,  and 
dancing-shoes  also  with  red  heels. 

The  Lagmanska.  Perhaps  you  can  also 
find  me  gloves  and  a  fan. 

The  Witch.  Everything,  and  especially 
several  young  cavaliers  who  will  call  you 
"  queen  of  the  ball." 

The  Lagmanska.  Now  you  are  joking. 

The  Witch.  No,  I  am  not,  and  I  know 
that  just  in  these  balls,  they  have  always 
good  taste  enough  to  choose  the  best 
queen — ^by  "  best "  I  mean  the  worthiest. 

The  Lagmanska.  You  mean  the  most 
beautiful. 

The  Witch.  No,  I  don't,  but  the 
worthiest.  Would  you  like  me  to  give  the 
signal  for  the  ball  now  ? 


70 


ADVENT 


The  Lagmanska.  Yes,  gladly,  as  far  as 
I  am  concerned. 

The  Witch,  Go  a  littie  to  one  side,  and 
you  will  find  your  lady's  maid,  while  the 
dancing  hall  is  being  got  ready. 

The  Lagmanska  (going  off  by  the  right 
wing).  Fancy!  a  lady's  maid,  too.  Do 
you  know  that  that  was  the  dream  of  my 
youth,  which  has  never  yet  been  fulfilled. 

The  Witch.  You  see  "  what  one  wishes 
for  in  youth,  one  has  abundance  of  in 
age."*     (Blows  on  a  whistle.) 


Scene  II 

The  scene  changes  to  the  bottom  of  a 
deep  valley;  in  the  background  and  on 
the  sides  are  steep  black  rocks  without 
vegetation.  To  the  left  in  the  foreground 
the  throne  of  the  queen  of  the  ball.  To 
the  right,  the  orchestra.  In  the  middle  of 
the  stage  a  statue  of  Pan  surrounded  by 
plants  in  pots, — hen-bane,  wood-broom, 
thistles,  onions,  etc. 

The  musicians  enter,  dressed  in  gray, 
with  white  sad  faces,  and  weary  gestures; 


•  A  saying  of  Goethe. 


.-d 


ADVENT 


71 


they   appear   to   tune   their  instruments, 
although  no  sound  is  heard. 

The  ball-guests  come  in,  drawing  on 
black  gloves;  they  consist  of  cripples, 
beggars  and  tramps.  They  move  slowly, 
like  undertakers. 

The  Other  One  acts  as  master  of  the 
ceremonies;  he  appears  as  a  septua- 
genarian beau,  wearing  a  black  peruke, 
which  lets  his  gray  hair  appear  beneath; 
he  has  a  waxed  moustache,  an  eye-glass, 
a  frock-coat  which  he  has  outgrown,  and 
top-boots;  he  seems  depressed  at  the  part 
which  he  has  to  play. 

The  Seven  Deadly  Sins  enter  and 
range  themselves  round  the  throne — 
Pride,  ^.echery.  Gluttony,  Avarice,  Anger, 
Envy,  Sloth. 

The  Prince  enters;  he  is  a  hump-back, 
wearing  a  soiled  velvet  jacket  with  bright 
buttons;  he  has  a  sword,  lace  collar,  and 
spurs  on  his  boots. 

The  whole  following  scene  is  played  in 
serious  earnest  without  a  trace  of  irony, 
satire  or  humour.  The  figures  move 
soundlessly  on  felt-soles,  and  their  faces 
look  like  death-masks. 

The  Prince  (to  the  Master  of  Cere- 
monies). Why  do  you  disturb  my  rest 
Aus  at  mid-night? 


72 


ADVENT 


The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  You  always 
ask  "why?"  brother.  Have  you  had  no 
light  on  the  subject  ? 

The  Prince,  Only  partially.  I  see  a 
connection  between  my  suffering  and  niy 
guilt,  but  I  do  not  understand  why  I 
should  suffer  for  ever,  since  He  has  suf- 
fered in  my  stead. 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  For  ever! 
You  died  yesterday;  then  time  ceased  for 
you,  and  therefore  some  hours  seem  to 
you  like  eternity. 

The  Prince.  Yesterday? 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies,  Yes !  but 
since  you  were  proud,  and  would  have 
no  help  in  your  suffering,  you  must 
manage  to  bear  it  yourself. 

The  Prince,  What  have  I  done  then? 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  Wonderful 
question ! 

The  Prince.  No,  but  tell  me ! 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies,  Since  it  is 
our  business  to  torment  one  another  with 
the  truth — ^we  were,  remember,  famous 
truth-tellers  in  life — I  will  tell  you  part  of 
your  secret.  You  were  and  are  still  a 
hump-back 

The  Prince.  What  is  that? 

The    Master    of    Ceremonies.    Look! 


lI, 


ADVENT 


73 


You  do  not  know  what  all  the  others  knew. 
They  all  sympathised  with  you,  and  there- 
fore you  never  came  to  hear  the  n;  .ne  of 
your  deformity. 

The  Prince.  What  deformity  is  that? 
You  mean  perhaps  that  I  have  a  "  weak 
chest,"  but  that  is  no  deformity. 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  Yes,  "  weak 
chest "  is  your  name  for  it.  Well :  men 
ignored  your  bodily  defect,  and  sought  to 
modify  your  misfortune  by  pity  and 
friendliness,  but  you  took  their  kindness 
as  a  tribute  due  to  you,  and  their  encourag- 
ing words  as  admiration  of  your  personal 
excellences.  Finally,  your  self-love  grew 
to  such  a  pitch,  that  you  regarded  yourself 
as  a  type  of  manly  beauty,  and  when  a 
woman  loved  you  out  of  pity,  you  thought 
yourself  an  irresistible  conqueror. 

The  Prince.  What  right  have  you  to 
stand  here  and  talk  so  impertinently? 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  Right!  I 
fulfil  the  sad  duty  of  the  malicious  to 
punish  the  malicious,  and  you  will  at  once 
fulfil  your  own  grim  duty  towards  a  woman 
who  is  vain  to  the  point  of  madness,  and 
as  like  yourself  as  possible. 

The  Prince.  That  I  will  not! 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  Attempt  to 
do  anything  else  except  what  you  must, 


I 


! 


ii 


74 


ADVENT 


and  you  will  experience  a  disharmony 
which  you  will  not  be  able  to  explain. 

The  Prince.  What  is  that? 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  This — ^that 
you  cannot  at  once  cease  being  what  you 
are,  and  you  are  what  you  wished  to  be. 
(Claps  his  hands.) 

Enter  the  Lagmanska  with  the  same 
clumsy  elderly  figure,  but  rouged,  and 
with  a  powdered  eighteenth-century 
peruke.  She  wears  a  low-cut  rose-coloured 
dress,  red  shoes,  and  carries  a  fan  of  pea- 
cock^ s  feathers. 

The  Lagmanska  (somewhat  doubt- 
fully). Where  am  I !  Have  I  come  right? 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  You  have 
come  quite  right,  and  you  are  in  the  Wait- 
ing-room as  we  call  it.  It  is  so  named 
because  (he  sighs)  we  spend  our  time 

here    waiting ^waiting    for    something 

that  will  some  day  come. 

The  Lagmanska.  Yes,  it  is  very  nice 

and  there  is  the  music and  there 

is  a  statue ^whoisthat? 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  That  is  a 
heathen  god  called  Pan,  because  he  was 
all  in  all  to  the  ancients.  And  since  we 
here  are  ancient,  and  more  or  less  old- 
fashioned,  we  have  set  him  up  here  to  look 
at* 


ADVENT 


75 


The  Lagmanska.  We  arc  not  old 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies,  Yes,  wc 
are.  my  queen;  when  the  new  era  (he 
sighs)  began,  we  could  not  follow,  but 
remained  behind 

The    Lagmartska.    The    new    era-— 

what  sort  of  phrase  is  that ^when  did 

the  era  begin?  ^  . 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies,  That  is 
easily  calculated— with  the  year  One. 
Yes  it  was  a  clear  starlit  night  and  must 
have  been  mild,  since  the  shepherds  were 

out  of  doors.  .  J    J,      1    »♦ 

The  Lagmanska,  Oh,  indeed!  isnt 
there  a  ball  here  to-night? 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  Yes,  cer- 
tainly.    The  Prince  is  only  waiting  to  ask 

^^r^  Lagmanska.  Is  he  a  real  prince? 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  Real,  my 
queen,  that  is,  he  has  complete  reality  of 

a  certain  kind.  ,      «  .  2. » 

The  Lagmanska  (to  the  Prince,  who 

asks  her  for  a  dance).  You  do  not  look 

cheerful.  Prince. 

The  Prince,  No,  I  am  not  cheerful. 
The  Lagmanska,  I  certainly  cannot  say 

that  it  is  very  cheerful  here— -and  then 

it  smells  of  putty,  as  though  the  glaziers 


76 


ADVENT 


i 


had  been  here.  And  then  what  an  extra- 
ordinary scent  of  linseed  oil. 

The  Prince  (shudders).  What  do  you 
say.^    Do  you  mean  of  corpses. 

The  Lagmanska.  I  certainly  said  some- 
thing not  very  pretty;  it  is  not,  however, 
the  lady's  part  to  say  pretty  things,  but 
the  gentleman's 

The  Prince,  What  shall  I  say  that  you 
do  not  know  already  } 

The  Lagmanska,  What  I  don't  know 
already?  Let  me  think.  No,  then  it  is 
better  that  I  tell  you  that  you  are  hand- 
some, Prince. 

The  Prince.  Now  you  exaggerate,  my 
queen;  I  am  not  handsome,  but  I  have 
always  been  said  to  have  what  they  call  a 
good  appearance. 

The  Lagmanska.  Just  like  myself.  I 
was  not  a  beauty — I  mean,  I  am  not  at  my 
time  of  life.  How  stupid  I  am!  What 
did  I  want  to  say  ? 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies  (to  the 
musicians).  Strike  up! 

(The  Musicians  seem  to  play^  but  not  a 
sound  is  heard.) 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies,  Now? 
Won't  you  dance  ? 

The  Prince  (sadly).  No,  I  have  no 
pleasure  in  dancing. 


ADVENT 


n 


The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  But  you 
must;    you    are    the    only    presentable 

cAvalisfa 

The    Prince.    That    is    true    enough 
(thoughtfully).    But  is  that  a  proper  occu- 
pation for  me  ?  tt  o 
The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  How  so." 
The  Prince.  It  seems  to  me  sometimes 
that  I  have  something  else  to  think  about, 

but  then ^then  I  forget  it. 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  Dont 
worry.  Enjoy  yourself  so  long  as  youth 
is  there  and  cheeks  glow  with  the  joyful 
roses  of  yorth.  So,  straight  back  and 
nimble  leg! 

(The  Prince  smiles;  offers  the  Lag- 
manska  his  hand;  they  dance  a  few 
minuet-steps  together.)  ,    aui 

The  Lagmanska  (stops  dancing).  Ah ! 
His  hands  are  cold  as  ice.  (Advances 
towards  the  throne.)  Why  don't  the  seven 
ladies  there  dance? 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  How  did 
the  queen  like  the  music? 

The  Lagmanska.  It  was  fine,  but  they 
might  play  a  liLtle  louder. 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies.  Yes,  they 
are  all  soloists  and  formerly  used  to  wish 
to  drown  each  other's  voices,  therefore 
they  have  to  moderate  them  now. 


r« 


ADVENT 


111 


i 


The  Lagmanska.  But  I  asked  why  the 
seven  sisters  did  not  dance.  Cannot  the 
Master  of  the  Ceremonies  make  them? 

The  Master  of  the  Ceremonies,  It 
wouldn't  be  worth  the  trouble,  for  they  are 
as  obstinate  as  sin.  But  will  not  the 
queen  take  her  seat  on  the  throne?  We 
have  a  little  play  to  perform  in  honour  of 
the  day. 

The  Lagmanska.  Oh!  how  nice.  But 
the  Prince  must  conduct  me ! 

The  Prince  (to  the  Master  of  the  Cere- 
monies). Must  I  do  that? 

The  Lagmanska.  Oh  fie !     Humpback. 

The  Prince  (spitting  in  her  face). 
Have  you  no  shame,  old  witch? 

The  Lagmanska  (gives  the  Prince  a 
box  on  the  ear).  There's  one  for  you ! 

The  Prince  (flies  at  her  and  knocks  her 
down).  And  that's  in  return ! 

(All  hold  their  hands  before  their  faces.) 

The  Prince  (tears  off  the  Lagmanska's 
wig  so  that  her  bald  head  is  seen).  Here 
is  the  false  scalp ;  now  we  will  take  out  the 
teeth ! 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies,  Enough! 
Enough!  (Raises  the  Lagmanska  and 
flings  a  cloth  over  her  head.) 

The  Lagmanska  (weeping).  Alas! 
That  I  have  let  myself  be  made  such  a 


ADVENT 


79 


fool  of ;  I  deserve  no  better,  if  I  must  con- 

fess 

The  Prince.  No,  you  deserve  much 
worse;  but  you  must  not  refer  to  my 
hump-back,  for  then  the  Devil  is  loose ! 
It  is  wretched  work  to  see  an  old  woman 
so  silly  and  so  humiliated.  It  is  a  pity 
about  you,  as  it  is  about  us  all. 

All.  About  us  all. 

The    Prince    {contemptuously).     Ine 

Queen ! 

The  Lagmanska  (equally  contemptu- 
ously). The  Prince!  But  haven't  we 
met  before? 

The  Prince.  Yes,  perhaps;  in  our 
youth,  for  I  am  old.  You  were  just  now 
dressed  up,  but  now  that  we  see  ourselves 
here  without  disguise— certain  features 
begin  to  become  visible. 

The  Lagmanska.  Say  no  more!  Say 
no  more!  Oh,  where  have  I  come  to? 
What  is  happening  to  me  ? 

The  Prince.  Now  I  know!     You  are 

my  sister. 

The  Lagmanska.  But ^my  brother  is 

dead.    Have  they  deceived  me?    Or  do 
the  dead  return? 

The  Prince.  Everything  returns. 

The  Lagmanska.  Am  I  then  dea 
alive  ? 


or 


8o 


ADVENT 


The  Prince.  I  leave  you  to  ask,  for  I 
know  no  difference.  But  you  are  just  as 
you  were  when  I  once  left  you, — ^just  as 
vain,  and  just  as  thievish. 

The  Lagmanska.  Do  you  think  you  are 
better,  then? 

The  Prince,  Perhaps.  I  have  the  seven 
deadly  sins,  but  you  have  invented  an 
eighth — robbing  the  dead. 

The  Lagmanska,  What  do  you  mean? 

The  Prince,  I  sent  you  twelve  years 
running,  money  for  a  wreath  for  motiier's 
grave.  You  kept  the  money,  and  bought 
no  wreath. 

The  Lagmanska,  How  do  you  know 
that? 

The  Prince,  That  is  the  only  concern 
you  have  for  your  crime — to  find  out  how 
I  know  it. 

The  Lagmanska.  Prove  it. 

The  Prince  (takes  bank-notes  out  of 
his  pocket).  Here  are  the  notes. 

The  Lagmanska  falls  to  the  ground. 

A  church-bell  sounds.  All  bend  their 
heads  but  none  fall  on  their  knees. 

The  White  Lady  (enters,  goes  to  the 
Lagmanska  and  lifts  her  up).  Do  you 
know  me? 

The  Lagmanska.  No. 

The    White    Lady.     I    am    Amalie's 


.1 


ADVENT 


8i 


mother.  You  have  stolen  the  memory  of 
me  from  her.  You  have  obliterated  me 
from  her  life,  but  now  you  will  be  struck 
out,  and  I  shall  again  recover  my  child's 
love  and  prayers,  which  I  need. 

The  Lagmanska.  I  see  they  have  been 
gossiping  with  the  minx;  I  will  send  her 
to  keep  swine. 

(The  Prince  strikes  her  on  the  mouth.) 

The  White  Lady.  Don't  strike  her. 

The   Lagmanska.    You    intercede    for 

me. 

The  White  Lady.  Yes,  that  is  the  les- 
son I  have  been  taught. 

The  Lagmanska.  Hypocrite!  You 
would  wish  me  as  far  under  the  earth  as  it 
is  to  the  sun,  if  you  only  dared. 

The  Master  of  the  Ceremonies  {touches 
the  Lagmanska  with  his  staff;  she  falls  to 
the  earth).  Lie  down!  accursed  dog! 

The  Scene  changes  without  a  descent 
of  the  curtain;  the  statue  of  Pan  sinks 
through  the  ground;  the  musicians,  the 
throne,  and  the  seven  deadly  sins  dis- 
appear behind  new  stage  scenery.  Finally 
the  cross-roads  in  the  pine-forest  re-appear 
and  the  Lagmanska  lies  at  the  foot  of  the 
sign-post.     The  witch  stands  near  her. 

The  Witch.  Stand  up ! 


%»-Mi 


82 


ADVENT 


The  Lagmanska.  I  cannot;  I  am  frozen 

stiff. 

The  Witch.  The  sun  rises,  the  cock  has 
crowed,  and  the  bell  is  sounding  for  morn- 
ing prayer. 

The  Lagmanska.  The  sun  is  nothmg  to 

me. 

The   Witch.  Then   you   will    have   to 

wander  in  darkness. 

The  Lagmanska.  Alas!  My  eyes! 
What  have  you  done  ? 

The  Witch.  I  only  extinguished  the 
light  since  it  pained  you.  Up  and  go  on 
now  in  cold  and  darkness  till  you  drop ! 

The  Lagmanska.  Where  is  my  hus- 
band.? Amalie?  Erich  and  Thyra— my 
children  ? 

The  Witch.  Where  are  they?  Where- 
ever  they  are,  you  will  not  see  them  any 
more  till  your  wanderings  are  over.  So 
get  up  and  go !    Otherwise,  I  let  loose  my 

dogs. 

(The  Lagmanska  goes  out,  feeling  her 

way.) 


Scene  III 

The  hall  of  judgment.     In  the  hack- 
ground  the  Presidents  chair  decorated  in 


ADVENT 


83 


white  and  gold  and  with  the  emblems  of 
Mice.  In  the  centre  of  the  hall,  before 
the  chair,  the  judicial  table,  with  writing 
material,  a  Bible,  bell  and  hammer. 

Fastened  against  the  wall  in  the  back- 
ground is  the  executioner's  axe;  under- 
neath it  are  handcuffs;  above  it  a  large 
black  crucifix. 

The  Lagman  enters  and  comes  slowly 

forward. 

The  bell  is  lifted  from  the  table  and 
rung;  the  hammer  strikes  a  blow;  the 
chairs  move  simultaneously  towards  the 
table;  the  Bible  is  opened;  and  the  large 
wax-candles  lit. 

The  Lagman  stands  still  and  shudders; 
then  he  approaches  the  cupboard.  The 
cupboard  opens,  and  papers  are  thrown 
out  to  the  Lagman,  who  picks  them  up. 

The  Lagman.  Ah!  now  I  have  luck! 
there  are  the  guardianship  accounts ;  there 
is  the  contract  for  the  lease  and  the  inven- 
tory.    Yes ! 

(The  handcuffs  on  the  wall  rattle.) 
Rattle  away !  so  long  as  the  axe  does 
not  move,  I  don't  mind.  {He  lays  the 
documents  on  the  judicial  table  and  goes 
back  to  close  the  cupboard,  the  door  of 
which,  however,  incessantly  re-opens.) 
There  is  a  reason  for  everything.     This 


ADVENT 


cupboard  door  has  a  spring  which  I  do 
not  understand,  and  because  I  don't 
understand,  I  am  astonished,  but  not 
afraid. 

(The  axe  on  the  wall  moves.) 

The  axe  moves;  that  has  alwavs  signi- 
fied decapitation,  but  to-day  it  only  means 
that  its  centre  of  gravity  is  disturbed. 
No,  but  if  I  were  to  see  my  own  ghost, 
then  I  should  begin  to  reflect,  for  that  is 
beyond  this  charlatan's  power  of  conjur- 
ing. 

(The  Ghost  comes  from  behind  the 
cupboard;  it  is  exactly  like  the  Lagman, 
but  has  white  blank  eyes  like  a  statue's,) 

The  Lagman  (in  alarm).  Who  art 
thou? 

The  Ghost.  I  am  not.  I  was.  I  was 
the  unjust  judge  who  has  come  here  to  re- 
ceive his  sentence. 

The  Lagman.  What  hast  thou  done 
then,  poor  man? 

The  Ghost.  All  the  evil  that  an  unjust 
judge  can  do.  Pray  for  me,  thou  who  hast 
a  clean  conscience. 

The    Lagman.  Am    I    to pray    for 

thee? 

The  Ghost.  Yes!  thou  who  hast  not 
caused  innocent  blood  to  be  shed. 

The  Lagman.  That  is  certainly  true;  I 


ADVENT 


85 


have  never  done  that,  and  for  the  rest  I 
have  followed  the  letter  of  the  law,  so 
that  I  could  rightly  receive  the  title  :  the 
righteous  judge."    Yes,  without  irony. 

The  Ghost.  It  would  be  an  inoppor- 
tune moment  for  jesting,  since  the  Unseen 
are  sitting  in  judgment. 

The  Lagman.  What  do  you  mean? 
Who  are  sitting  in  judgment?  ..... 
The  Ghost  (signs  towards  the  judicial 
table).  You  don't  see  them,  but  I  do. 
(The  bell  on  the  table  is  rung;  a  chair  is 
pushed  back  from  it.)     Pray  for  me. 

The  Lagman.  That  I  will  not.  Justice 
must  have  its  course.  You  must  be  a 
great  criminal,  who  has  arrived  late  at  the 
consciousness  of  his  guilt. 

The  Ghost.  You  are  as  stern  as  a  good 
conscience.  , 

The  Lagman.  Yes,  that  is  the  word: 

stern  but  just ! 

The  Ghost.  Then  there  is  no  mercy? 

The  Lagman.  None. 

The  Ghost.  No  grace ! 

The  Lagman.  No. 

(The  hammer  falls;  the  seats  are  pushed 
back  from  the  table.) 

The  Ghost.  Sentence  was  then  pro- 
nounced; didst  thou  hear  it? 

The  Lagman.  I  hear  nothing. 


ADVENT 


The  Ghost  (signing  towards  the  table). 
And  see  nothing.  Dost  thou  not  see  the 
beheaded  sailor,  the  land-surveyor,  the 
little  chimney-sweep,  the  white  lady,  the 
tenant  ? 

The  Logman.  No!  I  see  absolutely 
nothing. 

The  Ghost.  Woe  be  to  thee,  when  thine 
eyes  are  once  opened  like  mine !  Just 
now  sentence  was  pronounced,  "  Guilty." 
(The  candle  on  the  table  is  put  out.) 

The  Lagman.  Guilty ! 

The  Ghost.  You  pronounced  it  your- 
self. And  you  have  been  already  judged. 
Nothing  remains  now  but  the  Great 
Auction. 


Act  V 

The  same  room  as  in  the  first  scene  of 
the  second  Act.  It  w  ^rranged  for  an 
auction,  with  benches  in  the  middle  of  the 
room.  On  the  auctioneer's  table  stands 
the  silver  service,  the  clock,  vases,  cande- 
labra, etc. 

The  portraits  of  the  Lagman  and  Lag- 
manska  have  been  taken  down  and  stand 
leaning  against  the  table.         ^    .      ,.     , 
{Enter  The  Neighbour  and  Amalie.) 
Amalie  {in  her  scouring  ^''f  ^>'-  J®^®'^ 
mother  went,  she  told  me  to  clean  Ae  hall 
anri  stairs;  it  is  winter  now  and  cold,  and 
I  cannot  say  that  I  have  enjoyed  obeying 

her  order.  ,        •       j 

The  Neighbour.  You  haven  t  enjoyed 
it '  Do  you  know,  my  child,  you  make 
great  demands  on  yourself.  Smce  you 
have  been  obedient,  and  stood  the  test,  the 
time  of  your  trial  will  come  to  an  end,  and 
I  will  tell  you  the  secret  of  your  lite. 

87 


MiCRocorr  risoiution  tbt  chart 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


I.I 


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■  2^ 

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tt 

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■  3.6 

14.0 


1^ 
■  2.2 

12.0 
i  1.8 


^  /1PPLED  IIVHGE    Inc 

^^  1653  Eost  Main  Strmt 

RS  Rochntw.  New  York       14609      USA 

^g  (716)  482  -  0300  -  Phon* 

^B  (716)  28a  -  S989  -  Fax 


88 


ADVENT 


Amalie.  Speak,  Neighbour,  for  I  can- 
not reckon  longer  on  my  good  will. 

The  Neighbour.  Well,  this  woman 
whom  you  call  mother  is  your  step-mother ! 
Your  father  married  her  when  you  were  a 
year  old.  The  reason  you  never  saw  your 
mother  was  because  she  died  when  you 
were  born. 

Amalie.  That  was  it  then!  How 
strange  to  have  had  a  mother,  but  never 
to  have  seen  her!  Tell  me,  have  you 
seen  her.? 

The  Neighbour.  I  knew  her. 

Amalie.  What  did  she  look  like.-* 

The  Neighbour.  What  she  looked  like  ? 
Her  eyes  were  as  blue  as  flax,  and  her  hair 
yellow  like  stalks  of  corn. 

Amalie.  And  tall  and  slight;  and  her 
hand  so  small  and  white  as  though  she 
had  only  sewed  silk  all  her  life,  and  her 
mouth  looked  like  a  heart,  and  as  though 
only  kind  words  passed  her  lips. 

The  Neighbour.  How  do  you  know  all 
that? 

Amalie.  I  generally  dream  of  her  when 

I  have  been  angry and  then  she  lifts 

her  hand  warningly,  and  the  hand  wears  a 
ring  with  a  brilliant  green  stone.  That  is 
she !  Tell  me,  Neighbour,  was  there  no 
picture  of  \\er  here  in  the  house } 


ADVENT 


89 


The  Neighbour.  Yes,  formerly  there 
was;  but  whether  it  is  still  there,  I  don't 
know. 

Amalie.  The  Lagmanska,  then,  is  my 
step-mother.  God  is  good  to  let  me  keep 
my  mother's  image  unimpaired  in  my 
mind,  and  for  the  future  I  shall  find  it 
quite  a  matter  of  course  that  the  old 
woman  is  unkind  to  me. 

Tke  Neighbour.  Unkind  stepmothers 
exist  in  order  to  produce  good  children. 
And  you  were  not  good,  Amalie,  but  now 
you  have  become  so,  and  therefore  you 
shall  have  a  Christmas-present  in  advance. 
(He  takes  the  portrait  of  the  Lagmanska 
and  opens  the  frame;  a  water-colour  paint- 
ing of  Amalie* s  mother  comes  to  view,  re- 
sembling the  above  description.) 

Amalie  (on  her  knees  before  the  pic- 
ture). My  mother,  my  dream-mother 
(rising).  But  I  shan't  get  the  picture,  as 
it  is  going  to  be  sold  at  auction. 

The  Neighbour.  Yes,  you  will,  for  the 
auction  has  been  already  held. 

Amalie.  When  and  where  was  it  held? 

The  Neighbour.  It  was  held  somewhere 
else  in  a  place  you  cannot  know  of,  and 
to-day  the  things  are  only  to  be  fetched. 

Amalie.     How     strangely     everything 


90 


ADVENT 


i:      i 


happens.  There  are  so  many  mysteries  in 
this  house!  But  tell  me,  where  is  my 
step-mother?  I  have  not  seen  her  for  a 
long  time. 

Tke  Neighbour.  Well,  I  must  tell  you; 
she  is  there  whence  no  man  returns. 

Amalie.  She  is  dead? 

The  Neighbour.  She  is  dead,  found 
frozen  in  a  swamp  into  which  she  had 
fallen. 

Amalie.    Merciful    God,    have    mercy 

upon  her ! 

The  Neighbour.  He  will  do  that  in  His 
own  good  time,  especially  if  you  pray  for 

her. 

Amalie.  Certainly  I  will. 

The  Neighbour.  You  have  truly  been 
a  good  child,  though  she  was  so  malicious. 

Amalie.  Don't   speak   so,   now   she   is 

dead. 

The  Neighbour.  Very  well !     May  she 

rest  in  peace ! 

Amalie.  But  where  is  father? 

The  Neighbour.  That  is  a  secret  for  us 
all.  But  it  is  good  of  you  to  ask  after 
him  before  you  ask  after  Adolf. 

Amalie.  Adolf!  Yes,  where  is  he? 
The  children  cry  for  him  and  Christmas 
is  near.     Oh,  what  a  Christmas  it  will  be ! 


v 


m 


ADVENT 


91 


The  Neighbour.  Sufficient  unto  the  day 
is  the  evil  thereof.  And  now  take  your 
Christinas  present  and  go.  Here,  alter 
the  auction,  things  will  be  put  in  order,  and 
then  you  will  hear  more  news. 

Amalie  (taking  her  mothers  portrait). 
I  go,  now  no  longer  alone,  and  I  believe 
some  good  will  happen  to  me,  but  I  know 
not  what.    (Exit  on  the  right.) 

The  Neighbour.  I  know!  but  go  now 
for  what  is  going  to  happen  here  is  not  a 
sight  for  children.  ,     ,     ,  j 

(He  opens  the  door  in  the  back-ground, 
and  rings  with  the  auction-bell.  People 
enter  in  the  following  order:  the  poor  ma 
body;  the  sailor;  the  chimney-sweep:  the 
Neighbour  with  a  widow  and  orphans;  the 
surveyor.  The  Other  Ont  enters  with  a 
pile  of  papers.  He  takes  up  the  auction- 
hammer  y  and  strikes  the  table.) 

The  Other  One.  At  the  bankruptcy- 
auction  held  in  the  sessions-house  by  the 
Lagman  of  the  district,  the  following 
items  were  judicially  assigned  to  the 
absent  creditors.  They  can  now  be  car- 
ried away  and  taken  in  possession  by  the 

parties  concerned.  ,      ,     »       # ^ 

The  Lagman  (entering;  he  looks  old 
and  decrepit).  Stop !  in  the  name  of  the 
law! 


-.     V 


93 


ADVENT 


Tke  Other  One  (making  as  though  he 
threw  something  at  the  Lagman,  who  re- 
mains confused  and  silent).  Don't  talk  of 
the  law  here;  here  the  Gospel  is  pro- 
claimed but  not  for  you,  who  wished  o 
buy  the  kingdom  of  heaven  with  sto    a 

money. 

First.  The  widow  and  her  children 
have  the  silver  service  which  the  Lagman 
took  from  them  as  an  honorarium  for  his 
false  inventory;  the  silver  became  some- 
what tarnished  in  his  unclean  hands,  but 
in  yours,  it  will  become  white  again,  I 
hope. 

Then  there  is  the  Lagman's  ward,  who 
had  to  become  a  chimney  sweep  because 
he  was  cheated  of  his  inherits'  ..  There 
is  the  property  your  guardii**.  .lad  charge 
of  with  the  accounts  duly  drawn  up.  You 
need  not  thank  him.  Next  comes  the 
land  surveyor,  who  on  account  of  falsified 
maps  being  delivered  to  him  made  an 
illegal  distribution  of  land,  and  had  to 
suffer  two  yea:--  imprisonment,  though  he 
was  guiltless.  What  can  you  do  for  him, 
Lagman  ?  Can  you  undo  what  has  been 
done,  or  restore  to  him  his  lost  credit? 

The  Lagman.  Give  him  a  hoe,  the  clod- 
hopper, then  he  will  be  content.  His 
credit  before  was  not  worth  two  farthings. 


ADVENT 


93 


(The  Other  One  strikes  the  Lagman  on 
the  mouth.  The  people  sfit  at  him,  and 
murmur  angrily  with  clenched  fists.) 

The  Other  One.  Next  we  have  the 
brother  of  the  unjustly  beheaded  sailor. 
Can  you  restore  to  him  his  brother  s  hter 
No '  Can  you  atone  for  it  with  your  own 
life?    No,  for  it  is  not  worth  so  much  as 

Finally  it  is  the  neighbour's  turn  and 
he  receives  back  the  property  which  the 
Lagman  in  a  perfectly  legal  way  had  de- 
prived him  of.  But  since  the  Neighbour 
IS  unskilled  in  jurisprudence,  he  has,  con- 
trary to  all  precedent,  installed  the  Lag- 
man's  son-in-law  as  life  tenant,  cancelled 
his  debts,  and  made  him  his  heir. 

The  Lagman.  I  appeal  to  the  Higher 

Court.  ^.  , 

The  ^ther  One.  The  case  has  gone 
through  all  the  Courts  except  the  Highest, 
and  you  won't  get  there  for  all  your 
stamped  papers.  For  if  you  attempted  to 
do  so,  all  these  poor,  whom  you  have  de- 
prived of  their  support,  would  cry 
"  Guilty !"  This  is  all  the  restitution  that 
can  now  be  made;  what  remains  falls  to 
the  poor;  clocks,  vases,  jewellery;  in  this 
are  included,  moreover,  presents,  bribes, 
tips,  souvenirs,  and  what  has  been  honestly 


94 


ADVENT 


come  by,  as  there  are  no  witnesses  or 
proofs.  (To  the  poor.)  Take  back  your 
own  again;  your  tears  have  washed  the 
guilt  from  the  unjustly  gotten  goods. 
(The  poor  seize  the  things.) 

Now  remains  the  last  item  which  I 
have  to  put  up  to  auction.  This  pauper, 
formerly  the  Lagman,  is  offered  to  the 
lowest  bidder,  to  be  used  for  parochial 
duties.     How  much  is  offered  ? 

^Silence.) 

No  offer ! 

Oroe !  Twice !  Thrice !  No  offer !  Do 
you  near?  No  one  will  have  you.  Very 
well  then,  I  will  take  you  and  despatch 
you  to  well-deserved  punishment. 

The  Lagman  (bowed  down).  Is  there 
no  atonement? 

The  Other  One.  Yes!  Punishment  is 
atonement!  Out  with  him  in  the  wood, 
and  stone  him  according  to  the  law  of 
Moses!  The  Lagman  knows  no  other 
law !    Out  with  him ! 

(The  people  seize  him  and  push  him 
out.) 


ADVENT 


95 


Curtain. 


Scene  II 

The  "Waiting-room."  The  same 
scenery  as  in  the  second  scene  of  the 
fourth  Act.  A  deep  valLy  ...rrounded 
by  high  black  rocks.  In  the  back-ground 
a  large  pair  of  scales,  in  which  new-comers 
are  weighed. 

The  Lagman  and  The  Lagmanska  are 

sitting  at  a  little  table  opposite  each  other. 

The  Lagman  (staring  before  him  as  if 

in  a  trance).     Hush!     I  was  dreaming 

something !    They  threw  stones  at  me 

and  yet  I   feel  no  pain then  it  was 

dark  and  blank  till ^how   ong  it  lasted 

I  cannot  say.     But  now  I  begin  to  hear 
and  feel  again.     Now  it  is  as  though  I 

were  being  carried ugh!    how   cold! 

they  are  washing  me,  I  believe 1  he  m 

a  six-cornered  box  like  a  bee's  cell,  which 
smells  of  the  carpenter ^they  are  carry- 
ing me,  and  a  bell  is  sounding— — ^Wait  a 
bit !  now  I  am  riding,  but  not  in  a  tram, 
though  a  bell  keeps  on  ringing;  now  I  am 
sinking  down  as  though  I  were  drowning 


h   I 


96 


ADVENT 


I 
I 


thump,  thump,  thump,  there  are  three 

knocks  on  the  lid;  now  there  is  reading, 

the    priest   is    reading and   now   the 

boys  sing ^What  is  it?  And  then  con- 
tinual thumps  on  the  lid — thump,  thump, 
thump,  thump,  thump,  thump.  Then  an 
end  and  silence !  (fVakes  up.)  Where 
am  I?  I  am  choking;  it  is  so  stuffv  and 
close.  Is  it  you?  Where  are  we?  Whose 
*^  the  statue  there? 

'^he  Lagmanska.  They  say  that  is  the 
New  God. 

The  Lagman.  It  looks  like  a  goat ! 
The  Lagmanska.    Perhaps  it  is  the  god 
of  the  goats. 

The  Lagman.  "  The  goats  on  the  left 

hand  " ^what  is  that  I  remember. 

The  Fince  (entering).  It  is  the  god 
Pan! 

The  Lagman.  Satan? 
The  Prince.  The  same!  Exactly  the 
same !  And  if  the  shepherds  at  night— 
I  don't  mean  the  shepherds — catch  a 
glimpse  of  a  single  hair  of  his,  they  are 
seized  with  a  panic  dread. 

The  Lagman  (rising).  Alas !  I  won't 
stay  here !  Alas !  Cannot  one  get  away  ? 
I  will  go  out.  (Wanders  about  vainly 
seeking  for  an  outlet.) 


ADVENT 


97 


/he  Other  One  (entering  in  the  garb 
of  a  Franciscan).  Here  Aere  are  only 
entrances,  but  no  exits. 

The  Lagntan.  Is  that  Father  C'  !omba? 

The  Other  One.  No,  it  is  the  Other 

The  Lagntan.  As  a  monk. 

rA-r  Other  One.  Yes,  don't  you  know, 
when  the  Other  One  becomes  old,  he  be- 
comes a  monk,  and  sometimes  he  really 
becomes  one.  But  to  speak  seriously,  for 
here  e ,  erything  is  s  ^rious ;  this  is  my  festal 
dress  which  I  cai  >nly  wear  this  one  day 
in  the  year  in  order  that  I  may  remember 
what  I  once  pos*»^ed  and  what  I  have 

lost. 

The  Lagntan  {        wmly).  What  day  ir 

the  year  is  this  ? 

The  Other  One  tghs  and  inclines  hts 
head).  It  is  Christn    s  Eve. 

The  Lagman  (aj  'oack'mg  the  Lag- 
manska).  It  is  Christ  .-s  Eve!  Do  you 
know,  I  dare  not  ask  wf*  are — -1 

dare   not.  yet  let  us  >^'*   to  the 

children,  to  our  own.     ,  ^ 

The  Lagmanska.  Yes.  le  igo  home 
from  here,  and  then  befm  a  life  in 

peace  and  harmony. 

The  Other  One.  It  i.^    oo  fate ! 


98 


ADVENT 


I 


I*  m 


The  Lagfiftnska  (despairingly).    Good 
friend,  help  us,  have  mercy,  pardon  us ! 
The  Other  One.  It  is  too  late ! 

The  Logman  (taking  the  La^nanska's 
hand).  I  have  such  fear.  Don  t  ask  him 
where  we  are ;  I  don't  want  to  know.  But 
one  thing  I  should  like  to  know;  will 
there  never  be  an  end?  ^ 

The  Other  One.  Never!  V^e  dont 
know  the  word  "  end  "  here. 

The  Lagman  (paralysed),  licver  an 
end !  (Uoks  round.)  Does  the  sun 
never  shine  down  i.;  I'lis  coli  damp  place? 

The  Other  One.  Never,  for  those  who 
dwell  here  have  not  loved  the  sun. 

The  Lagman.  That  is  true;  I  have 
cursed  the  sun.    Can  I  make  confession? 

The  Other  One.  No!  You  must  bear 
your  sins  within  you  till  they  swell  and 

choke  ycu. 

The  Lagmanska  (falls  on  her  knees). 

Oh ! ^think !     I  cannot  pray !     (Rises, 

walks   about  restlessly,   and  wrings   her 

hands.) 

The  Other  One.  Because  there  is  no 

one  to  pray  for  you. 

The  Lagmanska  (despairingly).  My 
children,  send  someone  here  to  speak  a 
word  of  hope  and  forgiveness. 


ADVENT 


99 


The  Other  One.  No,  that  cannot  be. 
Your  children  have  forgotten  you  and  ait 
there  and  rejoice  that  you  are  gone.  (A 
picture  of  the  home  appears  like  a  photo- 
graph on  the  wall,  with  Adolf,  Amalie, 
Erich,  Thyra,  r<  und  the  Christmas  Tree, 
and  the  Playfellow  in  the  background.) 

The  Lagman.  They  sit  at  the  Christ- 
mas tab^e  and  rejoice  over  our  distress? 
No,  thfC  is  not  true,  for  they  were  better 
than  we. 

The  Other  One.  You  strike  a  new  note ! 
I  had  heard  that  you  were  a  righteous 
man. 

The  Lagman.  \}  I  was  a  great  sinner 
the  greatest  that  has  ever  existed ! 

The  Other  One.  H'm !  H  m ! 

The  Lagman.  And  if  you  say  anything 
evil  about  the  children,  you  sin !  I  know 
that  th  ey  pray  for  us. 

Th  J  Lagmanska  (kneeling).  I  hear 
them  telling  their  beads :  hush !  I  hear 
them! 

The  Other  One.  You  are  quite  wrong, 
for  what  you  hear  is  the  singing  of  the 
workmen  who  are  breaking  down  the 
Mausoleum. 

The  Lagman.  The  Mausoleum! 
Where  we  were  to  have  lain  in  peace ! 


lOO 


ADVENT 


the    shadow    of 


The    Prince.    Under 
twelve  wreaths ! 

The  Lagman.  Who  is  that ! 
The    Prince    (pointing    to    the    l^g- 
manska).  This  is  my  sister,  so  you  are 
my  brother-in-law. 

The  Lagman.  Aha !    That  is  the  good- 
for-nothing  I 

The  Prince.  In  this  inn  we  are  all  good- 
for-nothings. 

The  Lagman.  But  not  all  hump-backs ! 
The    Prince    (striking    him    on    the 
mouth).    Don*t  refer  to  that,  or  you  set 
the  Devil  loose. 

The  Lagman.  So  a  deserving  man  m 
my  social  position  is  treated !  What  a 
Christmas  Eve ! 

The  Prince.  Perhaps  you  expected 
Christmas  cakes  and  pastry ! 

The  Lagman.  Not  exactly  that,  but  one 

ought  to  obtain  the  means  of  subsistence. 

The  Prince.  Christmas  is  certainly  kept 

here. 

The  Lagman.  For  how  long? 

The  Prince.  How  long?  We  do  not 
count  by  time  here,  since  time  has  ceased, 
and  a  minute  can  be  an  eternity. 

The  Lagmanska.  We  suffer  what  our 
deeds  deserve  *,  therefore  don't  complain. 


ADVENT 


lOI 


The  Prince.  Attempt  to  complain,  and 
you  will  see  something  new.  Here  they 
are  not  particular,  they  squeeze  without 
using  legal  forms. 

The  Lagman.  Are  they  beating  clothes 
outside  on  a  day  like  this  ? 

The  Prince.  No,  that  is  an  extra-legal 
treat  with  the  stick  to  remind  those  who 
have  forgotten  the  meaning  of  the  day. 

The  Lagman.  Is  there  bodily  ill-usage 
here?  Is  it  possible  that  well-educated 
men  should  lay  hands  on  each  other. 

The  Prince.  Here  the  ill-educated  are 
educated,  and  those  who  have  behaved 
like  rascals,  are  treated  as  such. 

The  Lagman.  That  goes  beyond  all 
bounds. 

The  Prince.  Yes,  for  the  bounds  have 
been  over-passed.  Prepare  yourself !  I 
have  already  been  outside  and  had  mine. 

The  Lagman  (shuddering).  This 
humiliation!  That  is  robbing  one  of  all 
human  dignity ! 

The  Prince.  Ha!  Ha!  Human  dig- 
nity! See  the  scales  there!  There 
human  dignity  is  weighed  and  all  come 
short! 

The  Lagman  (sits  down  at  the  table). 
I  could  never  have  believed 


I02 


ADVENT 


The  Prince.  No,  you  believed  only  in 
your  own  righteousness  and  your  good 
luck.  And  yet  you  had  Moses  and  the 
Prophets  and  more,  for  the  dead  appeared 

to  you. 

The  Lagman.  My  children!  My  child- 
ren! Can  no  one  go  to  them  from 
here  with  a  greeting  and  a  warning? 

The  Prince.  No !  for  ever,  no ! 

(The  Witch  enters  with  a  large  box  full 
of  pee f -show  boxes.) 

The  Lagman.  Who  is  that? 

The  Witch.  These  are  Christmas 
presents  for  the  good !  Peep-show  boxes 
(handing  him  one).  Take  it.  There  is 
nothing  to  pay. 

The  Lagman.  Well,  you  seem  a 
friendly  person  anyhow,  and  che  consider- 
ation you  show  to  a  man  of  my  age  and 
position  does  honour  to  your  perception 
and  your  heart. 

The  Witch.  The  Lagman  is  too  good, 
but  I  hope  he  will  not  take  it  ill  that  I 
have  thought  a  little  of  the  others  also. 

The  Lagman  (taken  aback).  Hag !  are 
you  laughing  at  me  ? 

The  Witch  (spits  in  his  face).  Go! 
law-trampler ! 

The  Lagman.  Alas !  into  what  company 
have  we  fallen ! 


ADVENT 


103 


The  Witch.  Isn't  it  good  enough  for 
you,  old  perjurer,  bribe-receiver,  falsifier, 
inheritance-stealer,  right-wrester !  Look 
in  your  peep-show  box !  there  you  have  the 
whole  panorama,  "  From  the  cradle  to  the 
grave  *^;  there  you  have  the  whole  story. 
Look!  . 

(The  Lagman  looks  in  the  box  and  rises 
with  a  shudder.) 

The  Witch.  I  hope  my  little  gift  will 
add  to  your  Christmas  joy.  (She  gives 
similar  boxes  to  the  Lagmanska  and  the 

rest.) 

The  Lagman  (sitting  at  the  table  with 
the  Lagmanska  opposite  him).  What  do 

you  see?  . 

The  Lagmanska.  Everything  is  there, 
everything!  And  have  you  noticed  that 
it  is  all  black?  The  whole  bright  course 
of  life  has  grown  dark  and  the  hours  which 
seemed  full  of  harmless  pleasure  appear 
disgusting,  abominable,  and  almost 
criminal.  It  is  as  though  all  the  memories, 
even  the  tenderest,  had  become  rotten. 

The  Lagman.  Yes,  you  are  right.  Not 
one  memory  looks  bright  in  this  darkness. 
The  first  love  of  my  youth  looks  like  a 
corpse ;  when  I  think  of  the  good  Amalie, 
I  see  a  bad  woman;  the  little  children 
make  grimaces  at  me  like  street-urchins; 


Z04 


ADVENT 


:  I 


my  farm  is  a  pig-stye,  the  vineyard  a  dust- 
heap  covered  with  thistles  and  the 
Mausoleum,  ugh!  an  urinal  I  When  I 
think  of  the  green  wood,  the  foliage  looks 
as  brown  as  tobacco,  the  clear  stream  looks 
as  if  it  flowed  from  a  dunghill  and  the 
blue  vault  of  heaven  appears  a  sooty  ceil- 
ing. The  sun  I  only  remember  as  a 
name,  and  what  was  called  the  moon, 
which  hung  like  a  lamp  over  bays  and 
groves  in  the  evenings  of  one's  youth,  I 

only  remember  as no,  I  remember  it 

no  more.  But  I  still  have  the  words, 
though  tliey  are  only  sounds  without  sig- 
nificance  ^love,    wine,    song,    flowers, 

children,  joy !  Don't  they  sound  pretty : 
and  that  is  all  we  have  left.  (Looking  at 
his  watch.)  The  watch  has  stopped.  I 
am  so  hungry,  but  I  am  thirsty  too,  and 
long  for  tobacco.  I  am  tired  also,  and 
want  to  sleep.  All  my  desires  are  awake; 
they  tear  and  worry  me,  but  not  one  of 
them  can  I  satisfy.    Ah !  we  are  wretched, 

wretched! 

The  Lagmanska.  I  have  an  inCk<;scnb- 

able  longing  for  a  cup  of  tea. 

The  Lagman.  Hot,  green  tea.    That  is 

exactly  what  I  want ^with  a  dash  of 

rum  in  't. 


ADVENT 


105 


The  Ligmanska.  No,  not  rum.    I  pre- 
fer a  sweet  biscuit. 

The  Prince  (approaching  and  listen- 
ing). With  sugar  on  it?    Tf  you  sing,  yes ! 

The  Lagman.  This   coarse   talk  pains 
me  more  than  anything  else. 

The  Prince,  Because  you  don't  know 
how  much  the  other  will  pain  you. 

The  Lagman.  What  other? 

The  Lagmanska.  No,  hush !  We  don't 
wan   to  know.    Hush ! 

The  Prince.  But  I  will  tell  you!  It 
begins  with- 

The  Lagmanska  (puts  her  fingers  tn 
her  ears  and  screams).  Mercy !  Silence, 
silence,  silence ! 

The  Prince.  No,  I  won't  be  silent,  and 
my  brother-in-law  is  curious.  Therefore 
he  shall  know.    The  second  letter  is  V. 

The  Lagman.  This  uncertainty  tor- 
ments me  more  than  anything  else.  Tell 
me,  in  the  Devil's  name,  or  kiP  me ! 

The  Prince.  Kill !  ha !  ha.  Here  we  are 
immortal,  soul  and  body  alike,  the  little 
that  is  left  of  them.  Meantime  the  third 
letter  is now,  you  cannot  know  any 

more 

(Enter  c,  short  lean  man  in  a  gray  dress, 
with  black  lips,  a  gray  beard  and  gray 


io6 


ADVENT 


hands.     He    speaks    in    an    undertone,) 
May  I  speak  to  the  Lagmanska  for  a 

moment  1 

The    Lagmanska    (rising    m    alarm). 

What  is  it? 

The  Gray  Man  (with  an  uncanny 
malicious  smile),  I   ^ill  tell  you  outside. 

The  Lagmanska  (weeping).  No,  I 
won't  go,  I  won't  go.  , 

The  Gray  Man  (laughs).  It  is  not 
dangerous!  Come  along.  I  will  only 
talk  a  little  with  you.  Come !  (They  re- 
tire to  the  back- ground,)  *  ,.   , 

The  Prince  (to  the  Lagman).  A  little 
Christmas  gift  is  ple'^ant. 

The  Lagman.  Do  you  mean  to  mis- 
handle a  woman  } 

The  Prince.  Here  all  inequalities  are 
done  away  with  and  a  woman  is  treated 
exactly  like  a  man. 

The  'agman.  Devil! 

The  Prince.  Call  me  so  if  you  like,  but 
not  "Hump-back,"  for  that  is  my  last 

ambition. 

The  Other  One  (approaching  the 
table).  Now  what  do  you  think  of  animal 
magnetism?      It    can    do   wonders   with 

rascals. 

The   Lagman.  I    don't   understand    a 

word  about  it. 


ADVENT 


107 


The  Other  One.  Just  as  I  thought,  and 
it  is  good  of  you  to  confess  that  Uiere  are 
things  which  you  don't  understand. 

The  Lagman,  Granting  that  I  find  my- 
self in  the  region  of  the  dead 

The  Other  One.  Call  it  "  hell,"  for  that 
is  its  name. 

The  Lagman  (stammering).  I  should 
like  to  remind  you  that  He  who  once 

descended  here  to  save  the  lost 

The  Prince  (at  a  sign  from  The  Other 
One  striking  the  Lagman  on  the  mouth). 
Don't  argue ! 

The  Lagman.  I  am  not  listened  to! 
This  is  absolute  desperation!  Without 
mercy,  without  hope,  without  end ! 

The  Other  One.  True !  Here  there  is 
only  justice  and  retribution,  especially 
justice.  Eye  for  eye,  tooth  for  tooth,  just 
as  you  wanted  to  have  it. 

The  Lagman.  But  among  men  there  is 
pardon ;  there  is  none  here. 

The  Other  One.  Only  princes  can  par- 
don. And  as  a  jurist,  you  must  know  that 
an  appeal  for  pardon  must  be  presented 
in  order  to  be  granted. 

The  Lagman.  For  me  there  is  no 
pardon. 

The  Other  One  (giving  the  Prince  a 


,o8  ADVENT 

sign  to  go  to  one  side).  You  think,  then, 
that  your  sin  is  too  great  ? 

The  Lagman.  Yes. 

The  Other  One.  1\i^n  \  m\\    ell  you 
some  good  news.    You  see  there  can  only 

^  anind.  when  there  is  a  be.P^"X  " e 
you  have  made  the  be|inmng.    But  the 
continuation  is  long  and  difficult. 
The  Ugman.  Oh !  God  is  good. 
The  Other  One.  You  said  so. 

The    Lagman.   But ^there    is    one 

thing  which  cannot  be  altered— -one  i 

The  Other  One.  You  mean  the  mon- 
strance.  which  ought  to  have  been  ^^ 
Kilt  was  silver.  Well;  dont  you  tnmK 
Aat  H^  X  changed  water  into  wme  can 
change  silver  into  gold? 

The  iMgmuH  (kneeling).  Sti««y.«"^- 

deed  is  tooVeatl  too  great  to  be  forg.ven^ 

The  Other  One.  Now.  Y?"  ^""''^^S 

too  much  of  yourself  ^'n  LeoChrSr- 
rise  uo  I     Here  we,  too,  shall  keep  Ctinst 
ri«  Ster  our  fashion.    The  sun  cannot 

Teach  here,  as  you  kn°*L"*''*?t«  ri^f  ^ 
but  in  this  night,  only  this  a  Star  r«es  so 
hieh  above  the  mountains  that  >*  <»»  °= 
swn  from  this  depth.  Tl«t  is  the  Star 
wWch  lighted  the  shepherds',  way  «  the 
desert,  wd  that  is  the  Morning  Star. 


ADVENT 


109 


(He  claps  his  hands;  the  statue  of  Pan 
sinks  through  the  earth.)  The  Lag- 
tnanska  comes,  looking  quiet  and  silently 
glad;  she  goes-  towards  the  Lagman  and 
reaches  him  her  hand  trustfully. 

The  stage  fills  with  shadows,  who  all 
look  up  towards  the  mountain  in  the  back- 
ground. 

Behind  the  scenes  two  soprano  voices 
and  one  alto,  accompanied  by  stringed  in- 
struments and  a  harp,  are  heard  singing: 

Puer  natus  est  nobis 
Et  Alius  datus  est  nobis 
Cujus  imperium  super  humerum  ejus 
Et  vocabitur  nomen  ejus 
Magni  consilii  Angelus 

Choir  (Soprano,  Alto,  Tenor  and  Bass) 

Cantate  Domino  canticum  novum 
Quia  mirabilia  fecit! 

The  Star  now  appears  above  the  moun- 
tain in  the  background.  All  fall  on  their 
knees.  A  part  of  the  cliff -wall  is  pushed 
to  one  side,  disclosing  the  Manger  with 
the  Child  and  the  Mother.  The  Shep- 
herds worship  on  the  left  hand,  the  three 
Kings  on  the  right. 


IXO 


ADVENT 

Choir  (two  Sopranos  and  alios) 
Gloria  in  cxcdsis  Deo, 
Et  in  terra  Pax  ,     ,  ,. 

Hominibus  bonac  voluntatis 


THE   END 


rr 


il 


"      prin«db,Eb.ne«rBvli»*8on,Trimt,  W«ta.  Wo»«Ur. 


